Mentor
by Syraxes
Summary: "This trip doesn't end when you get back home. You never get off this train." - Haymitch Abernathy, Catching Fire Film. At the age of thirteen, Gale Hawthorne won the Sixty-Nine Annual Hunger Games and became the youngest Victor in history. As District 12's third Victor, he'll be allowed to live his life in luxury, while being condemned to mentor an unlucky tribute every year.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

_Part One: Seventieth Annual Hunger Games_

For the first time in nineteen years, the Victory Tour starts in District 11. The people are angry.

They're always angry here, or so Haymitch tells me. It doesn't make me feel better as I step onto the stage, wearing matching midnight blue silk clothes, staring out at the crowd. Dark-skinned men and women stare up at us with straight backs and barely contained rage.

Across the stage from me, the mayor talks about the honor and virtue of the Hunger Games, before stepping aside so I can take my place. To my left, the only two living Victors of District Eleven, Chaff, and Seeder, stare at me with something approaching compassion. Haymitch did tell me he was close with both of the districts Victors.

"People of District Eleven. It is my great pleasure to be here as an honored guest," I say, repeating the words of the cards. "Us, the citizens of the greatest country, know the meaning of sacrifice. Your champions fought bravely, and it is through their willing bloodshed that Panem thrives. Til and Peppa fought bravely, and though I never had the chance to meet them in the arena, their valor has forever marked me."

The banquette is a small affair, consisting of Haymitch, Chaff, Seeder, the Mayor, the Head Peacekeeper, Effie, and the Capitol Liaison. No attempt is made to show me the district, and we leave on the train that same night.

In District 10, they are relieved.

Relieved that despite both of their tributes dying, most of their children are safe. Come next games, I doubt this will be the case, but for now, there is real energy in the crowd. The happiness that their loved ones are spared.

The mayor introduces me in the strange accent that everyone in District 10 seems to have. I give my speech next to Rowan, District 10's only male Victor. The other two, I'm told, are women. He won nine years before me, and once I finish the speech, Rowan throws his arms around me and leads me off strange.

The banquette here is no small affair. It's a huge celebration of relief, with meat cooked every which way I can imagine. Though I meet the other two District 10 Victor's, it is Rowan that stays with me through the whole event. He takes me around, making sure I have a bite of all the food his district has to offer while telling me stories about his life. I'm even allowed to ride one of their premium bred horses.

In District 9, they are resentful.

Their male tribute really had a shot of winning this year, before he was murdered by the pair from Two. Though I had never seen them in the arena, they resent that I'm the one standing on the stage before them.

Amelia, who won the games three years before I did, promises that they don't hold it against me. Not really. The tour always brings bad memories up in her district. She leaves me at the start of the grain field tour, promising to catch up next year when I mentor.

In District 8, they are solemn.

Effie says that's normal, at least according to her friend, who is the escort for District 4. Four, she reminds me, often wins, and he's made the circuit a few times. They are always solemn, staring up at the stage with barely contained... Defiance? Hatred? Blood lust? I'm not sure, even as I stare into Cecelia's fathomless eyes.

In District 7, they have dug in their heels.

The crowd stands tall during my speech, starting up at the stage like they refuse to look away. These people might have more Victors than Twelve, but they've suffered in the games as much as most districts. Yet they refuse to break, staring defiantly up. A show of unity and reliance that you'd never find in Twelve. The Seam and Merchants are too dived. If there ever was a district who would rebel if given the chance, these people are it.

In District 6, they are tired.

The crowd reminds me of Twelve, gathered together like cattle for the reaping. They stare up with a dead look, and I have to wonder if they're starved on the street like us. It makes me feel even worse when they show me to the banquet in the Justice Building, overflowing with food.

In District 5, they are afraid.

In the whispered words of the mayor, the district just had an uprising. The male from Five this year had been _radical_, and in his final moments, he inspired his friends and family revolt. Apparently, he was very well-liked in the district and his martyrdom set them off. It makes me wonder if District Twelve would revolt if I had died in the arena. I don't think they would have.

In District 4, I expect them to hate me.

They don't. District 4's oldest living Victor, a woman named Mag's, shows me their Victor's Village and assures me that the people don't hate me. They produce trained careers, yes, but they do it to protect the children of their district. By producing volunteers, kids with no training (like me) won't have to face the horrors of the arena. Allying into the career pack assures that they have a greater survival chance, and District Four has plenty of Victor's to prove that is the case. Her district might not like that one of their children isn't standing here, but they don't hold it against me.

In District 3, they cheer.

They really cheer for me. I find out at the banquet that their tributes were both found by the careers this year, and tortured. According to Beetee, his district cheered for me when I sprung my trap.

In District 2, they are proud.

They're one of the career districts, and they respect Victor's here, even if a Victor is not one of them. A young girl runs up to me in the Justice Building and asks for my autograph.

As careers, I had them on principle. This doesn't change when the mayor brags to me that the majority of the nations Peacekeepers are born and trained here, only a minority are from the Capitol. I think of Cray back home, and the line of starving girls in front of his house during the night.

Here the Capitol is not an oppressor, but a benevolent ruler, who the masses, at the very least, don't seem to hate. Which makes me hate them all them more. I almost lose it when Nero Bellius, the man who won the year before me, insists on showing off the Institute for Peace and Prosperity. Officially it is a school to train officers in the Peacekeepers, but in reality, it trains the future careers of Two.

When we return to the Justice Building, I point blank refuse to visit another school (a real officer's school, the mayor assures me) and we leave the district that night.

In District 1, I expect them to hate me.

They do. They glare up at me from the crowd, and I'm suddenly glad looks can't kill. If they could, I'd be a smoldering pile of ash up here on the stage.

In an ironic twist of fate, a very well dressed older woman named Fortune becomes by the guide. Apparently, Gleam and Fortune are common names in District 1, the latter being popularized by my guide, who herself was an early Hunger Games Victor. She takes me on a tour of the Academy for Beauty and Excellence, where their career tributes are trained. She informs me that she's the founder and acting Head Mistress of ABE. She and the other Victors don't hold my win against me, but the same could not be said for the staff and students.

Gleam and Fortune were top of their class in the school. The trainers and instructors sing their praises, all the while glaring at me with barely concealed hatred. Fortune notices this and laughs, promising me that come next year, the district will have forgotten their hatred of me, especially if next year's Victors kill their tributes.

When we finally depart District 1, I'm relieved.

In the Capitol, it's always a party.

I meet my sponsors at the President's Manor and the huge party that is thrown in my honor. The next week is full of more parties, and food, and colorful delicious drinks. Bright flashing lights of cameras, a constant parade of men and women congratulating me on my Victor.

It's on my last day in the Capitol the parties finally end.

I dreamed I was back in the arena. The towering white palace, so beautiful outside, hiding the horrors within. The golden Cornucopia seeming glowed in the setting sun. Gleam, the boy from One, stared at me from the gate that leads out into the forest. The only tribute I killed face to face in the games.

The rest of the careers perished in my acid trap, but blind luck had saved him from their fate. He was the last one in the room, and managed to survive, but not before being injured. My father kept me and my family well-fed, but the career boy looked like he never went hungry a day in his life. He was bigger and stronger than me, and only the acid injuries gave me a fighting chance. In the end, I drove my dagger into his eye and became the youngest Victor in history.

In the dream, his right eye is full of blood, leaking down into his twisted smile. "I've been waiting for you, Twelve," he said, his voice cracking with laughter. I caught sight of the sword and I turn around to run, but Gleam is on top of me before I can move. I can see the shadow of his body, raising the sword over his head.

As the blade comes up, I hurl myself up in bed. Breathing heavily, it takes me a few moments to realize that I'm not in the arena, but my room back at the Training Center. I've been out of the arena for over six months. I'm the Victor and I'm in the Capitol, on the final leg of my Victory Tour. Tomorrow I'll return to Twelve, but today Haymitch promised to show me the city. As a tribute, I had been confined to the Training Center. As a Victor in my own right, I was allowed to freely move around the Capitol.

Shaking off the dream, I decide to take a quick shower (I made Haymitch teach me how to use the ones in the Capitol). Haymitch is sitting at the table when I enter, nursing a bottle of wine in one hand, while our escort, Effie, talks his ear off. My stylist, Eutropia, is sitting at the end of the table, enjoying the delicious batter cakes.

"Gale," Eutropia calls happily, waving me over. Unlike most people I've met in the Capitol, she's fairly decent.

"Hello," I say, taking the open seat at the table. I load my plate full of assuage and eggs. "So old man. What are we doing today?"

Haymitch snorts. He isn't entirely happy with me calling him an _old man _but after he decided to call Flint _sweetheart, _she branded him with her own nickname. One that I approve of.

"Getting you set up for your life as a mentor," he answers, taking a sip of his wine.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Every year you'll be required to mentor for the games. As such, you'll be fulfilling them in the city. In the pre-game, you'll live here at the Training Center. Once the actual games begin, you'll live in Game Headquarters as long as you have a living tribute. Once our tributes are dead, we're released. We aren't allowed to stay in the Training Center unless we have a living tribute, or newly minted Victor. So between the time we have no tribute, to the end of the games where the Victors are sent home, you'll need a place to live. Don't you worry, the Capitol has thought of everything."

"What do you mean?" I asked, shoving two sausages into my mouth.

"Victory Tower," is Haymitch's answer.

"What's that?"

"What it sounds like. A large tower in the city center, close to the Presidential Manor. Every Victor is required by law to stay there while in the Capitol if they aren't mentoring a tribute. So the powers that be can keep a close eye on us."

We finish breakfast and Haymitch calls for a limo. "They're officially part of the game staff. Victors have a right to use them freely. Call them whenever to," Haymitch explained.

Apparently, Victor's privilege extends to cars.

"Mr. Abernathy. It is a pleasure," the old drive says, opening the back door for us.

"Thank you, Atticus," Haymitch says, climbing in the back. I follow. The old driver closes the door behind us. "Atticus here has been working as a driver since my victory. He's a friend."

"Where to, Mr.s Abernathy?" Atticus asks.

"National Mall," Haymitch answers.

"A mall?" I ask. I think of my father, how he had almost been mauled by a bear a month before I was reaped. Was there a national mauling commotion I'm unaware of?

"Think of the square back home. All the shops are packed. It's like that, but a lot bigger," Haymitch offers. His description doesn't do it justice. Three towering buildings appear to be made of glass. Amusement rides decorate the front of the first building, and I can see links of happy Capitol citizens waiting for there turn. Thousands of people are walking around, coming and going from cars, hands full of bags. Back in District 12, I never could have imagined a place like this.

We don't come in through the front like I'm expecting, instead, Atticus pulls through a small side road, leading into the building. "What are we doing here? Am I supposed to get a place here?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "No. We're buying you an MPD."

"What's an MPD?"

Haymitch chuckles. "It stands for Multi-Purpose Device. Every Capitol citizen gets one when they turn eighteen. I've told you about the Network, right? Well, MPD's access the network. With them, you have all your personal information, bank information. It also works as a portable phone, allowing you to make calls on the go. It does pretty much everything someone living in the Capitol needs it to do. You can take it back to District 12, but it won't work if it's not connected to the Network."

We walk above the crowds in the mall, on top of a special ramp way only for the most wealthy. Or high profile customers, which I guess we are.

We get off the ramp at a store lite up with colorful, flashing lights. The MPD, as it turns out, is small enough to fit into my hand. A silver rectangle with a black screen, the store attendant shows me how to turn it on. A second later, replaced by a small square, asking me to put my thumb on it.

"In the Capitol, your citizen Identification is connected to your thumbprint," Haymitch tells me. "If you want to buy anything, you just scan your thumb. The Capitol doesn't actually take the coin. That's only for the districts."

I press my thumb to the screen, and a moment later, my picture appears.

_Gale Hawthorn._

_Victor of the Sixty-Ninth Annual Hunger Games_

My picture and the words disappear, replaced by several little boxes Haymitch calls apps. He promises to show me how it works later (or at least make sure somebody else will) and we go back to the limo.

"How come I never saw you use this before the games?" I ask, trailing behind him.

"They're not allowed in the Tribute Center," Haymitch says, though he doesn't explain why.

"So I guess I should show you Victory Tower," Haymitch says as I climb in the car. Atticus closed the door behind me.

As if to make his point clear, our first stop is the large golden tower. _Victory _is spelled out at the top of the building in bright letters. The woman behind the desk recognizes us. "Haymitch. It's been a while. And Mr. Hawthorn. A pleasure. What can I do for you?"

"Just showing the kid to his room," Haymitch says pleasantly. The woman answers with a smile of her own, and Haymitch leads me to the elevator. "This is the base floor. We go up from here. Every floor has ten apartments, and each apartment is numbed. I'm in apartment fifty on the fourth floor because I won the fifth hunger games."

"So I'll be on the sixth floor, and in apartment sixty-nine," I say. Haymitch nods.

It's not quite as big as my house in Victor's Village, but it's huge nonetheless. My old house in the Seam could fit in here five times over. We walk into the lounge room, where a very comfortable looking couch and the seats are set up in front of a huge holoscreen. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a study to top it off. I claim the master bedroom for myself, having happily given it up to my parents back in Twelve.

Haymitch leaves me to my own devices, heading to one of the clubs he frequents. If I need anything, just call him, as his number is in my MPD, as he's my mentor.

Honestly, I don't know what to do. I could sleep, but I'm not tired. I suppose I could go with Haymitch, but I know my parents don't want me to get drunk. After sitting in front of the holoscreen for an hour, discovering that I have every Hunger Games at the tip of my finger, I decide I'm hungry. Haymitch said to call him if I needed anything, but he's probably in a bottle by this point, so instead, I call a limo.

Stepping outside, I figure I'll ask him about dining out, and he can just pick the location.

"Why hello," a distinctly feminine voice calls as I closed the door. It locks automatically, and only my thumbprint can open it. I left towards the voice and met with the sight of the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in person. Locked arm and arm with another man, her blond curls cascade down the side of her face.

I recognize them both in a second. I've seen them enough on T.V. Standing just a few feet away from me is Cashmere Orfevre and Finnick Odair.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the first chapter of Mentor. This idea came to me while I was writing a very different Hunger Games fanfiction, which also focused on Gale. I had most of it written out, before I lost all the chapters when my computer died. Since I didn't feel like rewriting it, I decided to focus on his life after the games, and here we are. His games will be referenced as the story progresses**

**For those of you a little confused, the Network is basically the Internet. It functions the same way as our modern internet does, with some notable improvements. Though only the Capitol enjoys the advantage. I based the MPD off the Chinese app WeChat. Everything you need in a conveniently small device.**

**Mentor will be comprised of five parts. Part one will focus on the events of the Seventieth Hunger Games, and Gale adjusting to life in the Capitol as a Victor and mentor. Part two will focus on the Seventy-First games. Part three the Seventy-Second. Part Four the Seventy-Third and finally, Part five will focus on the Seventy-Fourth games.**

**Mentor will have two sequels: Tribute (will focus on the events of the Second Quarter Quell) and Victor (focusing on the events of the second rebellion)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

It's almost a surreal moment. After seeing both of them during the games for years, I can't quite believe they're here in front of me. Cashmere and Finnick are legends, two of the most popular Victor's ever to come out of the Hunger Games. They were so popular that when Augustus Bran won two years ago, his team tried to market him as Panem's favorite son, to which Finnick was promptly voted into that position by the Capitol. Augustus, if I remember right, is one of District 1's most popular tributes, but Cashmere's brother outshines him.

I'm wondering what they're doing here, which I promptly think is a stupid question. Cashmere won the Sixty-Fourth, and Finnick the Sixty-Fifth. I'm four numbers away from them. Why I'm in the Capitol and have no tribute, I might be seeing a lot more of the two Victor's in the future. Then again, the careers tend to normally last long into the games, so many not.

"Gale Hawthorne. Our newest Victor," Cashmere seemed to purr, her eyes boring into me. "See. Aren't you glad we didn't stay in the hotel?"

The word is mostly unfamiliar to me. We don't have hotels in District 12 unless you count the inn. But the way Effie described them, they're not the same thing. "Hotel? I thought we can only live here," I say, my mouth moving before I really think about what I'm saying.

"This is our official residence in the Capitol," Finnick says, staring me down. His gaze didn't seem to be threatening or angry. "We can stay in other places. Like a hotel, but this is our residence. Anything you buy that can't be taken back to your district will stay in your apartment."

Cashmere laughs. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Hawthorn. Welcome to the club. I would love to stay and get to know you, but the Minister of the Interior expects me. I shouldn't keep her waiting."

Cashmere winks at me and I can't keep the blush off my face. Finnick, seeing this, laughs as she stalks away, her hips swaying. "Don't mind Cashmere. She's a tease."

_Even from behind, she looks just amazing, _I think. "Right," I say.

"Where's Haymitch? Shouldn't he be here minding his newest Victor?"

For some reason, his comment makes me angry. "I don't need a minder," I hiss, shooting the most popular Victor to ever come out of the arena a glare. Instead of taking offense, a devilish smile appears on his lisp.

"Some people might disagree. You're only thirteen," Finnick says. The remainder of my age does nothing to soothe my anger. Nor does the fact my parents would agree. "The youngest Victor in the history of The Hunger Games."

"Sorry I beat your record," I snap. My prep team had been constantly talking about it since I came out of the arena. How I beat the legendary Finnick Odair, becoming the younger tribute to ever step out of the games alive.

"You certainly did. When do you turn fourteen?" He asked.

"Why do you want to know?" I answer my own question. It seemed strange that Finnick cared about when my birthday would be.

"Call it curiosity," Finnick said.

"January," I say curtly.

"Next month? How interesting. Will you be celebrating it in the Capitol?"

The idea of spending my birthday here, away from my family, doesn't sit well. Surrounded by people who don't know how freakish they look. People who laughed and cheered while I fought for my life in the arena. "I don't see how I can," I say instead. As a Victor, Haymitch has told me that I can only return to the Capitol during the games, if my winning tribute is on the Victory Tour or if I'm summoned. I can't just call up a train and go to the Capitol whenever I want.

"I don't think so," I answer.

"I suppose not. I would love to stay and pick your brain, but like Cashmere, I have other engagements. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hawthorne. I'll see you next year for the games. I'll be mentoring as well," Finnick says, before thrusting his thumb onto the scanner, and opening a door that reads _65_.

As Finnick disappears into his apartment, I'm left thinking about next year's games, and how I'll be mentoring some poor kid from Twelve. It took Haymitch nineteen years before he got a Victor. Summer Vale, our first Victor, thirty-eight years. It's an uncomfortable reminder that I could be spending years mentoring kids, watching them die over and over again.

Shaking my head, the black, sleek car is waiting for me when I get down. Atticus smiles as he holds the door open for me, closing it as soon as I climb in. "Where to, Mr. Hawthorne?" He asks as he takes his spot in the front.

I shrug. I might be able to freely move around the Capitol, but I don't anywhere anything is. "Someone to get food. What do you recommend?" I ask. Atticus smiles.

"I know just the place, sir."

He drove me to a small a large building, which he identifies as The Red Lounge. A five-star lounge and restaurant he calls it, but the meaning is lost on me. As he opens my door and I climbed out, the people outside turn to look at us. As soon as they see me, whispering conversation breaks up, with most of them pointing at me. People call out greetings as I pass, asking me how I like the Capitol, but other than smiling at them, I offer nothing.

Once I'm inside, an older woman asks if I'd like a private room. As more people become aware of my presence, turning and pointing, I thank her and agree.

Roasted pig, creamy pumpkin soup, and cooked sea creatures are brought before me in courses. Colorful alcoholic drinks are presented to me, but I turn them away, reminding them of my age. They tell me that as a Victor, I'm allowed to drink and smoke to my heart's content. Knowing my parents will disapprove, I make sure they know I don't want them. Instead, they offer me a beverage called soda, which is pleasant enough in its own right.

By the time the meal is done, I feel like my stomach is ready to burst open. I make it back to the car, where Atticus is waiting for me, and ask him to drive me back to Victory Tower. I'm asleep as soon as I hit the bed, not even bothering to change my clothes.

It's the first time since I won that I have a dreamless sleep, and I wake up feeling refreshed. Atticus is there when I head back down, offering to take me back to the train station. Thanking him, when we pull up, I offer to leave him a tip, but he declines. The crowds are milling when I get out of the car, and I'm past the point of being surprised when one of them points me out, and they start muttering and cheering. I give them a smile and wave before I board the train.

Once inside, my smile disappears, and I'm ready to relax. Effie will remain in the Capitol, coming back for only for Reaping Day. The train begins to move, and I head into the dining car, on my way back to my room. Haymitch is sitting at the table, nursing a bottle of spirits, glaring at a woman sitting across the table. I don't recognize her, but the white uniform she's wearing leaves no doubt who she is; a peacekeeper.

The woman turns to look at me, and I see the golden seal of Panem embroiled on her uniform. I've seen it before, only on Cray's uniform. "Ah. Mr. Hawthorne. Just who I wanted to see. Please, sit," she said, pointing to the seat across from her.

Taking the seat next to my mentor, I ask: "Who are you?"

"Cornelia Blackthorn," she answers.

She smiled at me, one I returned tentatively. "I've been sent by the President to see if I can affiliate an understanding. And to see if District 12 is in need of correction."

My smile turns into a frown, and I look at Haymitch out of the corner of my eye. He looks sour. "What do you mean, correction?" I ask. I did not like the look on Haymitch's face.

"Tiberius Cray is your Head Peacekeeper, is he not? We've received some discerning rumors about how he runs things in Twelve," she explained. "I'm here to see if District 12 needs something in force we call a correctional officer. When a district requires a firm hand, a qualified correctional officer is installed as the new Head Peacekeeper."

"Is that what you are? A correctional agent?" I ask, balling my fist underneath the table. If she was, I have a sinking subspecies I know why she's here.

"No. I'm here to evaluate District 12. I decide if you need correction, or if I can leave Cray to his position as head," she elaborated. "We haven't had any problems with Twelve for awhile. But after your meeting with the President, we were sure that would remain the case."

I can see Haymitch turned to look at me, but I close my eyes. I could almost smell the sickly sweet scent of the Presidents rose as he sat across from me. At the time I had been angry about the games, being forced to kill someone for the Capitol's amusement. The President was the most powerful man in the world, and it was with his blessing that the games continued. I had lost my cool when he mentioned _Victor Duties _and stormed out. He hadn't followed me, and two weeks later, the tour began. Despite his ominous warning, nothing had come of it. Nothing until now.

"What meeting?" Haymitch asked, his voice icy.

"I'm not very sure about the details myself, but the President explained to Gale what being a Victor means. The duty he bares to the country," Cornelia said. Snow had sat across from me, making sure I understood that when I turned sixteen, I would be required to do my duty. Anyone he told me to fuck, I was to fuck. I had left before he could make a real threat.

"Did he now?" Haymitch's voice somehow became colder.

"Yes. I thought we could take this opportunity to speak, Mr. Hawthorne. I've gone through many reports, both official and unofficial, from the peacekeepers in your district. Both you, your father, and a few other families have slipped the fence in the past when the power goes off. To pooch on Capitol land. That's a class B infraction, just for one time. For how many times you and your father have done it?"

Suddenly the familiar sensation of anger rises through me. This woman was threatening me, on Capitol orders. The smart thing to do would be to close my mouth and try not to dig my hole any deeper than it already was, but ever since I had gotten out of the arena, my temper had always been so close to the surface. "I'm a Victor? What are you doing to do?

* * *

Execute me?" I hiss, standing up.

Cornelia merely smiles. "What am I going to do with you? Nothing, Mr. Hawthorne. As a Victor, the law allows you certain freedoms no other citizens of the districts, even those working for the government enjoys. Oh no, short of trying to instigate violence, commuting murder, encouraging citizens to break the law or insurgency against the government, there is not much I can do. To you. Your father, on the other hand, is not a Victor. He has poached on Capitol owned land hundreds of times, in a low estimate. Your family has benefited from his illegal poaching. A few other families in your district do the same thing. I dare say none of them enjoy your protection as a Victor." Cornelia smiles at me.

My heart has started to beat faster. I know a threat when I hear one. Play along, or else.

"There is also the black market. What do you call it? The hub, right? Such a charming name. We have a record of many citizens using this facility. A grade-A infraction, just for willfully participating one time. It would be completely within my rights to execute everyone who's stepped foot in it. Your family, and all the other poachers as well. I can request a power extension from District 5 and have the fence on all day and night. A harsh crackdown would be in order. The governing officials might need replacing. We'll have to close down the mines for a few weeks, at least."

Which meant mass starvation across the district. If people couldn't work, they'd starve. Without the hub, even more, would. The merchants might be able to weather the storm, but the Seam might not survive.

"All of this is within my authority to do, of course. And I'm more than willing to see the law be carried out. Or..."

"Or?" I ask, taking the bait. Cornelia's smile widens.

"Or you can play your role as a Victor. Personally, if this was any other District, I would be proceeding with these measures regardless of you playing or not. I would find other incentives to make you follow the script you've been given. But District 12 is so far beneath the radar, that it hardly seems necessary. Someone more fanatic, like Commander Thread, for instance, would follow the law to the letter. Twelve is such a backwater place, I don't see the purpose. It's so small and insignificant to the greater working of the country, that as long as you make your coal quota, the rest can be overlooked. Unless you refuse to play your part, that is."

And there it was. Do what we say, or we'll crack down on your district so hard, hundreds will die. Maybe thousands. Including your family, who will have special targets on them. I have no doubts that she will go out of her way to make sure people in the district know that the crackdown is the fault of their newest Victor.

The President also said I had until I was sixteen before I had to start fulfilling my duties. Even in the Capitol, thirteen is too young, but sixteen is a fair game. I'd seen the girls in front of old Cray's house, whoring themselves so they and their families might survive. I never imagined I would be among their number, only I would be whored out in the Capitol. After you win games, you're supposed to have a life of luxury. A life without worry, where you're pampered for as long as you live. Nothing is ever mentioned about the duties. Another lie that the Capitol tells.

A bout of laughter fills me, though there's nothing funny about the situation I'm in. It's funny that I actually believed in the lie. Not about the Capitol being benevolent, but at least allow its victims the winnings were promised.

"Is something funny. Mr. Hawthorn?" Cornelia asks, her smile having already turned into a frown.

"No. Nothing," I say, whipping it off my face.

"Once I get to District 12, I will arrange for my extended stay. If I find you amicable, I see no reason to strip Cray of the position and install a correctional officer. I will be working out of his office in the Justice Building and staying as a guest in his house in the district. I will be focusing on rearranging the patrols and making sure District 12's peacekeepers are acting in a way that does not bring dishonor to the uniform they're wearing. But before any of that, I will be going to the mayor's office and phoning President Snow. He requested an update as soon as we get into Twelve. So, what shall I tell him?"

I look over at Haymitch, seeing an expression of cool anger on his face. He meets my eyes, taking a sip of the spirits.

"Tell the President that I'm... Sorry," I say, forcing the words out of my throat. "For the way, I behaved."

"Being a Victor cannot be an easy thing. Sometimes the pressure of the arena can be hard on the Victors. I'm sure the President will not hold it against you, but I should think that you learn to control your temper. I have other engagements that require my attention before we get to Twelve. Good day to you both," she said, standing up. I watched as her retreating back disappears from view.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the second chapter of Mentor!**

**Before I go on, is anyone else excited about the new Hunger Games prequel book? I can't wait to read it! The news of it coming out is one of the reasons I've decided to write this! I bring this up because I've written out a whole history of the first rebellion, the Dark Days, and the history of Victors and Capitol people. Once that book comes out, it will probably render my history completely AU.**

**So I've been debating what to do about it. If I want to set up the world anymore, or wait for the book and see if I can work the new information into the history. So I've decided that I'm just going to go full butterfly-effect on this story. It was the butterfly-effect that lead Gale's to be reaped, and I think it can be used to explain major differences between my history and the canon that Collins is writing. When I finally get the book, I will work some of it into my history, but if it clashes too much, I might butterfly-effect it away, so to speak.**

**Pa tr eon dot com (slash) Syraxes**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

It feels a little strange to be walking around the district again. After I had come back from the Capitol the first time, I had mostly stayed in Victor's Village, only leaving when my father made me go hunt with him. We didn't need the food anymore, but now that I'm rich, my father no longer works in the mine, and he said he needed something to keep his time occupied. Leevy, Thom and Bristel, my best friends, had come to visit me, but I hadn't gone out of my way to see them. District 12 had become more oppressive than ever, and the only time I felt alive was out in the woods.

But after half a year and the Victory Tour, I knew I couldn't keep hiding. My friends are still in school, and my father is out in the woods, so I decided to make the trek to the Justice Building. Unlike the Capitol, Twelve uses physical coins, and I figured I might as well get some denarii. The Bank of Panem is the only bank in the districts. In the Capitol the choices are numerous, but Twelve, we have only one.

The blond hair of a merchant greet me, the woman's hair curling down the sides of her face. I've been told by Haymitch that the merchants tend to own bank account, and actually have meager savings. Those of us from the Seam do not. My father's wages were spent after he earned them, to keep his family from starving, and even then he still needed to hunt. Right now my family could easily open accounts, and start putting some of my earnings into accounts for themselves.

Haymitch had explained to me how Victor's salary system worked. On the first day of the new year, one hundred thousand denarii are deposited into each living Victor's account. Way more money than I know what to do with. Haymitch had said unless you were from District 1, easily the most expensive district in the country, most of your earnings will be spent in the Capitol.

"Hello, Mr. Hawthorn," the woman behind the counter says, smiling at me. "We haven't seen you come in yet. It's usually your father or mother."

I have no good answer to this, so instead, I say: "I want to withdraw some money from my account."

"Of course, Mr. Hawthorne. I'll just need your signature here," she says, sliding out a piece of paper. I quickly sign my name, finding out that school is good for something. "Everything seems to be in order. How much are you looking to withdraw?"

In District 12, there are our kinds of coins in circulation. One, five, ten, twenty, and fifty denarii coins. Before the Hunger Games, my father let me hold a ten coin, and it had been the most money I ever held in my hand.

"Two hundred," I say after a moment of hesitation. I hand her my small sack and watch as she puts four, fifty denarii coins in it, before handing it back to me. Muttering a small thanks, I loop the bag onto my waist and walk back down the long, shadowy hallway. Instead of using the elevator, I climb the steps back up to the next floor, waving to the secretary behind the desk as I leave.

Now, what am I going to do? My friends will still be in school for a while yet, and the last thing I want to do is go to school. In a little more than six months, I'll be mentoring some poor kid for the first time. I don't even want to think about it until I have to, so I put the thought out of my mind.

The warm scent of the bakery stops me as I walk through the town square. My father had taken me here plenty of times to trade, the baker had a taste for squirrel if I remember right. I've stayed in the front window at all the bread and pastries that were much too expensive for us to buy.

I don't know what makes me go inside, but it smells even better in the building. The baker's wife is behind the counter, and one look at my grey eyes and dark hair is enough to bring a sneer to her lips. Then she sees me, really sees me, and the sneer is gone, replaced by a smile. I'm not just some random Seam trash, I'm Gale Hawthorne. Victor of the Hunger Games. The richest person in all of District 12, except for my mentor Haymitch.

"I'm looking for something sweet," I say before she can speak. "Not a cake."

I don't say it, but I've had my fair share of cake in the Capitol, and something else sounds nice. I'm sure I'll buy a cake here one day, but it's not what I'm looking for.

"We're just finishing up a dozen apple strudels. Or if you can't wait, we have four strawberry eclairs cooling off in the back," she offers.

"I'll take them all," I decide. What's the point of having money if I don't spend it? Indulge a little, now that I can afford it.

The baker's wife is open-jawed at my declaration. If I wasn't a Victor, she would probably be laughing in my face right now. Maybe some of the richer merchants or government officials could afford it, but it wouldn't be worth the cost to buy so many.

"That'll be fifty-six denarii," she says slowly. Over a quarter of the coins, I brought with me. The baked goods here really were expensive. In the Capitol, I could probably buy all of this for less, and better quality. But I wasn't in the Capitol, and despite the fact she was a merchant, we were both District 12. And that had to mean something.

I take out two of the fifty denarii coins, placing them on the table. She looks at them with wide eyes, putting them behind the counter, handing me back the difference. Slipping them into my pouch, I'm left to wait while the rest of my order is finished.

Staring out of the bakery window, golden-haired men and women move about the streets. No one from the Seam in sight, only the golden-haired merchants.

The wife handed me a large brown box and a white bag. As soon as I'm outside, I go to the next shop, buying a large, handmade teddy bear for Posy. I pick out a real leather jacket for Rory and Vick, the kind they've always wanted. My house is full of clothes from the Capitol, enough that every member of my family will be dressed better than all of the merchant families, but my brothers were still obsessed with those jackets.

I head back home, dropping off the clothes, eclairs, and half the strudel, shoving the other half in a bag. My mom picks her head out of the kitchen, but I'm already halfway through the door at that point.

I decide that I'm going to go to the Hob while I wait for school to end. I had been inside the black market a few times with my father, and the idea of going in there alone used to scare me. But after the Hunger Games, it's not very frightening anymore.

I've just finished one of the strudels when the door opens. The white uniform of a peacekeeper meets my eyes. Purnia is descent as far as the Capitol enforcers go. She always paid my father a little more than what the meat was worth when buying from my father. In her hands in a bowl of steaming soup, what I recognize right away as one of Greasy Sae's soup. The kind she sells to those who can afford it. I would bet my earnings that it's not wild dog meat she was eating.

"How is old Cray doing?" I ask, finishing off the pastry. I had heard he was feeling a little under the weather, and some of the more responsible Peacekeepers were doing his work.

Purnia eyes me for a moment. "As well as can be expected. He's having trouble leaving his house, but medicine just arrived from the corps, so we're hoping he'll be up to go soon," Purnia says.

I can only imagine what it would be like to have medicine being brought to you on command. Then again, now as a Victor, I suppose I could probably get medicine from the Capitol if I need it.

"I hope he gets better" I say The last thing I want is for Cray to be replaced with someone like Cornelia Blackthrone. There would have been a time I wouldn't have cared if old Cray was feeling bad or not. Not I know we could have a much worse head.

I bid Purnia a goodbye, before entering the hub. The familiar sight brought a smile to my face. People cheered as they noticed me, many of them thanking me, though at first, I don't understand why. They tell me that as a Victor, parcels have been brought to District 12 regularly, ease the burden of many of them.

Greasy Sae's simple granddaughter meets me as I enter. She's a sweet girl, and I've always had a soft spot for her, in the non-romantic sense. She's happy to see me and hugged me. I slip a ten denarii coin and one the apple strudels in her hands.

When people see me, they stop and say hello. Tell me how brave I was in the Hunger Games, how much the parcels the district has received from my winning has helped them, and do I want to buy this family heirloom? Only five hundred denarii, quite a good deal. I laugh, and decline, but buy something else they're selling, at a price that they wouldn't use for anyone else. Not that it matters; I had the money, and I came to spend it.

I stop when I see Edric Everdeen. Like my father, he is one of the districts hunters, though I've never seen him when I went out into the woods. Like my father before my Victor, most of his time he's in the mine, slaving away underground. He's bartering with a group of people over the fate of three turkeys with Greasy Sae, Robar Burnett the mine foreman, and the old Goat Man.

The Goat Man threw his arms up in the arm, mumbled something in anger, and stalked away.

Robar looked at Edric and offered to buy two of the turkeys. He might be one of the few people in the Seam that could afford to casually buy two of them. As the foreman of the mine, he was easily the richest man who lived in the Seam and might have had more money than some of the merchants.

"I'll take one," I pipe up, drawing their attention toward me. Their eyes spark with recognition. Everyone in the country knew who I was.

"Do you mind, Robar?" Mr. Everdeen asked.

The foreman shook his head. "Not at. I'll just take one," he said, handing the hunter a fist full of coins.

Robar left with his price, patting me on the shoulder as he did. "Nice job in the games."

"Seven denarii," Mr. Everdeen said. I take out one of the ten denarii coins, handing it over.

"Thanks. My dad loves turkey," I say.

"How is Henry?" Mr. Everdeen asks. "I haven't seen him since you won."

"He's not working anymore. But he's good," I say.

"Give him my best, will you?" He asks. I nod.

Mr. Everdeen sells Greasy Sae his last turkey and bids us goodbye. It's only after he's gone I realize the mind shift isn't off. What were he and the foreman doing here?

I order a bowl of one of Sae's meat stews, the expensive ones the peacekeepers normally eat. The one with meat bought from the butcher, but I decided that halfway it, I prefer a fresh game.

On the way out, I buy a little of everything, trying to spread the money out as best I can. Stepping out into the cool winter air, I head to the one place in the district I don't want to go.

Kids are already streaming out of the school by the time I arrive. Two of them will be unlucky enough to be drawn out of the reaping bowl, and I'll have to mentor one of them. District 12 is already at the bottom in the games, and our odds will be even worse this year. Unless they were careers, tributes from the last year's winning district tended to be targeted. Even if then, the careers alliance tended to take out the tributes of last year's winner when the alliance split.

I'm able to pick Leevy out of a crowd of dark-haired kids, despite how well she blends in with them. Thom and Bristel aren't far behind her and In wave them over. I can see the grin spread across Leevy's face and she alerts the others.

"Hey, Gale!" Bristel calls, a smile spreading across her face. She's the fastest of the three, but Thom and Leevy aren't far behind her. "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you coming back to school?"

I couldn't even if I wanted to. As a Victor, I wasn't allowed to hold a job, work or go to school. It went against the illusion of luxury that surrounded all Victor's. It was carefully crafted by the state, and with Cornelia Blackthorn as the new head, I didn't want to try and test her. The school was also incredibly boring, and if nothing else, I enjoyed not having to attend.

"No. I'll leave learning about coal to you," I say, giving her a grin. Grabbing the bag off my belt, I hold it out towards them. "You hungry?"

We leave the school behind, and head south, to the fence at the end of the district. None of them have ever been beyond the fence, and I doubt I would be able to convince them to out with me now, so our old stomping grounds is the closest I can get them. It's one of the few areas of the district that isn't covered in coal dust or houses. Trees and grass litter the area, and it's the closest place you can get to the woods beyond in District 12.

It was nice being with my friends again. It almost made me feel normal, and only being out in the woods could make me feel better. Leevy was dating Robar Burnett's son, though she didn't think it would be going anywhere. He was a nice kisser, though. I don't know why this makes me feel a stab of anger at him, Leevy isn't my girlfriend, but it's there.

Thom bragged that he could take Rye Mellark in a wrestling match any day before Bristel laughed. ("You might have beat him in a fight, but that's because you didn't fight fair. He's the Captain of the Wrestling Team for a reason, Thom. That boy his huge. His younger brother might only be the vice-captain, but he's probably the only guy in the school who could take him?")

Bristel talked my ear off about a guy she liked, but she wouldn't tell us who. She said he was a merchant, and his parents would never allow him to marry a girl from the Seam. It was sad but true. I wasn't even born the last time a merchant married someone from the Seam. My father said that he always thought Mrs. Everdeen regretted moving to the Seam.

We continue talking until it starts getting dark before Thom said he needed to get home. He was going to help his father on the coal train, moving it out of the district. He offered to walk Leevy and Bristel home since they were all going the same way. As I watched them walk towards the Seam, I stayed still until they were out of sight, before going oppositely, back towards Victor's Village.

My house (it still felt strange admitting it) is warm as I walked in. My mom calls me for dinner, and I sit down to join my family at the dinner table. A stew made from waterfowl, with wild onions and greens, and a side of cheese buns. My stomach is full when I head upstairs from dinner.

I dream I'm back in the Capitol, only I'm not with Haymitch. Gleam and Fortune are chasing me through Victory Tower, saying they deserve to be there, not me. They fought how a tribute was supposed to fight and didn't hide behind bigger and stronger allies. I'm leading them up a long flight of stairs, towards my room. I know my room is trapped, and if I can just draw them inside, I can survive.

A sharp pain surges through my leg, and I fall face forward. Looking back, I can see one of Fortune's arrows that buried its way through my leg. Gleam and Fortune are on top of me before I can move. A knife is in her beautiful hands, and as she leans down, Fortune asks me if I want to lose my lips or ears first?

I wake up screaming, sure that the cruel girl from One was going to kill me. Looking around the darkroom, it takes me a moment to remember I'm not in the games anymore. I'm in my house in Victor's Village.

I lay my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes, wondering if I'll be able to get back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the third chapter of Mentor! A little look into Gale's life in District 12 as a Victor.**

**For Peeta's brother, I followed his naming convention and gave the boy a bread name.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

In the days leading up to the reaping, District 12 is hit by a storm. Darkened clouds pulled in a few days before, and the rain hadn't let up since then. I don't mind the rain too much, especially at night. The sound of it against the roof has a way of lulling me to sleep.

As the Hunger Games crew closer and closer, I became more thankful to the rain. Without the calming effect it had on me, I'm not sure I would have been able to get any sleep. I'm starting to see why Haymitch tried to drink himself to death before each reaping.

On the day of the reaping, I'm awakened by my mother shaking me. I turn over, staring at her bleary-eyed. "Mom? What are you doing?" She's never come and woken me up before, not since I won and haven't had to go to school. Not even on the morning of my Victory Tour.

"Purnia and Darius are here. The mayor sent them to make sure you're on time," my mother explained. "They've had problems with Haymitch in the past, you know that."

I did. I can remember more than a few reapings where his seat on stage was left empty.

"Are they waiting for me?" I ask.

"Yes. They just want to make sure you're up, honey."

"Okay. Tell them I'll be right down," I say. As my mother leaves, I slipped out of bed, my stomach in knots. The day I've been dreading more than any other is here. Two unlucky kids will be coming with me and Haymitch to the Capitol. I'll get to know them, and more than likely, I'll have to watch them die.

I slip into a comfortable pair of shorts, and a blue shirt, making my way to the front door. Purnia and Darius are standing in the doorway, speaking to my mother in hushed tones. Darius turns to smile at me when he sees me coming, and I return it. As far as peacekeepers go, Darius and Purnia are alright. Every Peacekeeper in the district, even Cornelia, frequents the hub, but Purnia and Darius are the two that seem the most approachable.

"Sorry for the intrusion," Purnia pipes up when I come into her sight. "Mayor Undersee just wanted to make sure you were up and awake. The Head Peacekeeper and a few others are trying to wake up Abernathy now."

"Good luck with that," I say, and I mean it. I've tried waking Haymitch up a few times before, and none of them went well. It's gotten to the point where I just dump water on him if I need my mentor awake as fast as possible. And since he usually sleeps with a knife, it's not without its risks.

"Be at the reaping by one-thirty," Purnia says. "Happy Hunger Games, Mr. Hawthorne."

As they leave, Darius puts his hand on my shoulder. There's a look of pity in his eyes, one that I don't like. Once they're gone, I tell my mother I'm going to take a shower and get dressed. Eutropia had sent me an outfit for the reaping, a blue suit decorated with golden stars. It wouldn't look out of place in the Capitol, but here in Twelve, I stick out like a sore thumb. Instead, I grab some of the clothes in my closet, dressing a little more tame for Twelve.

My mother has breakfast by the time I'm done, and my family is waiting for me. Bread from the bakery, goat cheese, and fish cocked the special way my father loves to cook them.

My mother and Posy are both wearing silk dresses, which leaves my sister in a fit of giggles. My father and brothers are wearing clean and crisp suits.

I sit down to eat and notice my father looking out the window again, staring across the rainy ground. Ever since the mine accident, my father has been trying to help the families as much as he can, but a lot of them are too proud to take his money. Had I not won, my father would have been working as a miner and might have been one of those victims. The thought disturbs me, so I put it out of my mind.

I grabbed one of the umbrella's I ordered from the Capitol on my way out, reminding my family to take them when they leave. When I get to the square, I saw it's been covered in order to keep the rain out as much as possible. Once the reaping is over, and we're on our way to the Capitol, the cover will be removed, and the crowds will return home. Most families would be happy that their children have been spared for another year.

I'm lead up on stage as the crowd fills in, my umbrella is taken by one of the Justice Building workers, who promise to return it to my family. As I watch more and more people fill in, it feels strange to be up here on stage, completely safe from being chosen. I try to spot Thom, Leevy or Bristel from the crowd, but it's impossible. I know they're all in the section for the fourteens, but I can't make out any individuals.

Finally, the clock strikes two, and Mayor Undersee steps forward and starts reading the history of Panem. I tune his voice out, not out of malice for him, but from repetition. I've heard the same speech given so many times I could recite it by heart.

Our Escort takes the stage, saying how happy she is to be here again, and just knows we have another winner on our hands. As she gushes, I try to make out my family in the crowd behind the eligible kids. My parents are too old to be reaped, and my siblings too young, so they're all back with the crowd in the back of the square.

Finally, Effie gets on with it. "Ladies first!" She says in her high pitched voice, the heavy Capitol accent making her sound strange. As she walks across the stage, I turn to the empty seat next to mine, which was supposed to be filled by Haymitch. If I had to guess, the Peacekeepers didn't have a lot of luck waking him on.

My attention is drawn back towards Effie when she pulls out a slip of paper from the girls' bowl. She cuts the seal with her thumbnail and opens it. walking back to the front of the stage. "Brooke Hopper," she calls out to the crowd. I release a sigh of relief; Leevy and Bristel were safe.

A dark-haired girl walked out of the seventeen section, tears openly streaming down her face. A sudden wave of shame washes over me. My friends might be safe, but this girl was going into the games. She wouldn't have finished school yet. A girl, who like me, was from the Seam. A girl who was almost finished with the reaping. From her expression, it seemed she thought she was going to die.

Brooke makes her way slowly to the stage, staring out at the crowd, crying. I want to tell her to wipe away her tears; they'll only make her seem weak, and right now she's in front of the whole country.

Effie asks for any volunteers, but no one steps forward. I didn't expect anyone to. As far as I'm aware, District 12 has never had a volunteer. Being a tribute from Twelve is almost as good as being a walking corpse. No one wants to die.

"And now for the boys!" Effie says brightly, walking across the stage. Like she had for Brooke, Effie reaches her hand in the bowl, moving it around, before finally drawing a slip of paper. She break-walks back to the microphone and breaks the seal. "Collis Dearborn!"

I vaguely recognize the family name. Dearborn's District 12's small sweets shop. They sell peppermint candies that I really enjoy.

The family has three children, though I had only seen the daughter and eldest son, both of whom have aged out of the reaping. From the fifteen-year-old section, a blond-haired boy walks forward. Merchants are rarely reaped. In my whole life, I remember one other merchant being reaped, long before I was eligible. The merchants are starving like the people of the Seam, though I no longer harbor any illusions of how rich they are. They're affluent for District 12, but I've been to the Capitol, and I've seen real wealth.

As Collis mounts the stage, I compare him to Brooke. He has more meat on him and seems to be better cared for. Not surprising. I would bet Brooke has never had enough to eat. Not one day in her life. I can't say it's the same for him.

"Ladies and gentle, I give you your tributes from District 12!" Effie happily declares. "Why don't you two shake hands?"

As Collis and Brooke turn to each other, the anthem plays. I look away, over towards the Head Peacekeeper and the mayor. As the anthem ends, and the Peacekeepers surround the tributes, escorting them inside the Justice Building, I stand up and walk towards Undersee.

He sees me coming. "Hello, Gale," the mayor says pleasantly. The rain has started to fall harder, and the crowd is beginning to leave. Only the family and friends of the tributes remain, moving towards the Justice Building like cattle.

"Where is Haymitch?" I ask, figuring he's the man to know.

"Some of the officers tried to wake. Well, they succeed. He woke up swinging a knife and knocked himself out when he tripped over one of his empty bottles. He has been brought to the train. You should go see the families. You can speak with Haymitch later," he says, finishing softly.

"Speak to the families?" I ask.

Mayor Undersee frowned. "Haymitch didn't tell you?" He asks. I shake my head. The mayor sighs. "It's a custom for the mentor to meet the tributes family before they leave for the Capitol."

It sounded like an exercise in torture if I ever heard one, but I nodded mutely none the less.

I couldn't say I was wrong. It was bad. I don't know how to comfort desperate families, grieving loved ones. I can only promise to do my best to bring them back alive. Or bring Collis back alive, as it turns out that Brooke is a Community House kid. The only one that shows up for her is her boyfriend, already old enough to work in the mines. He demands that I bring her home, and I promise I'll do my best. When that doesn't seem sufficient, he starts towards me menacingly, and for a moment I'm back in the arena. Odin, the boy from Two, is stalking towards me, covered in the blood of my ally. I reach behind me, grabbing the knife I always keep close, when a Peacekeeper steps in between us. He reminds the boyfriend that assaulting a Victor is a high crime, one that can lead to execution.

He backs off and flees the room. The Peacekeeper escorts me to the car, where I ride in silence, ahead of the tribute car behind me. I'm loaded on to another part of the tribute, where I find Haymitch sitting on the luxurious couch, nursing what's probably a hangover.

"Oh. It's you," he says, staring at me. "I almost thought you were a dream and that I was going to handle both of them alone."

Last year he mentored me and Flint. How was it going to work now, that Twelve has two mentors?

"You'll take one kid, and I'll take the other," Haymitch says when I ask him. "Of course, I'll still be helping you out. As our newest Victor, you have to learn the mentor circuit, and I'm the one who has to show you. But that can wait until we reach the Capitol. For now, you take the boy."

I'm about to ask why and plead my case for the girl. Like me, she's from the Seam, and I know how to talk to her. I've never spoken to a merchant who wants a teacher, or who I was selling the game to.

"You take the boy, I got the girl. For now, let's just see if they have any will to fight. If your boy has that will to fight, impress upon him the need to not freak out when he gets put into the stylists' hands. They're here to make sure he makes a splash in the Opening Ceremonies, after all," Haymitch finishes, standing up.

Last year he gave me and Flint the same advice. Though I can't say I really like Eutropia, she did help me through some hard spots in the pre-games.

"If they're a fighter, see what you have to work with. Do they fight a lot at school? Do they know how to use a knife? Are we lucky enough to get an eighteen year old who's been in the mines yet?" Haymitch explains as we leave the room, walking down the plush carpeted hallway. "Do they know what plants to do? Anything at all about surviving in the wild? These are the things that will save their life in the arena, and it's your job to make them see that."

"What if they're not a fighter?" I ask quietly.

"If a tribute doesn't believe they can win, they don't. No amount of pep talk or mentor work will be able to change that," Haymitch says darkly. Before I came along, he had been mentoring for eighteen years, and in all that time, he never had a single Victor. How many of District 12's tributes had the will to fight? How many decided that it would be better to lay down and die?

Collis and Brooke were already in the dining car, stuffing their faces as only a kid from Twelve could. Unlike Collis, Brooke was eating her food "You should both calm down," I say, following Haymitch inside.

Brooke looks up from her plate. "Why? I'm going to be dead in a week anyway."

At the other side table, Collis froze, the soup full of carrot soup an inch from his face. Staring at Brooke, I can understand her frustration. I was in her position last year, under no illusions about my chances of winning. I had the whole system and figured I might as well as eat as much of their food as I could stomach. That ended with me in the bathroom, heaving my guts out.

"Your body isn't used to this kind of food. Or having as much as you can eat," I say, pulling out the chair next to Collis, and sitting down. I grab one of the bowls on the table and fill it with the thick soup. "You'll only end up puking. You want to get as much meat on you as possible before the games, and throwing up everything you eat won't help much in that case."

Brooke looks at the bowl in front of me. "And I guess that rule doesn't apply to you?" She snips.

"It did last year when I was sitting where you are," I say, looking her dead in the eyes. "Threw up everything in my stomach before I went to bed. After a year of eating this, my body is used to it. Yours is not."

Brooke didn't say anything, but she pushed the bowl of soup away.

"So how is this going to work?" Collis asks, speaking up for the first time. "You're our mentors, right? What are we going to do?"

"Well, first things first," Haymitch says, reaching across the table for one of the glass bottles. "In previous years, I would mentor both of you. This year, District 12 has another Victor. Gale will mentor you boy. I will mentor Brooke."

As he speaks, I can see that neither one of them likes this result. On one hand, they had a drunk, who had been mentoring for years, and was only ever able to bring one person home. Not the greatest record. On top of that, he was already getting drunk. On the other hand, you had me. Last year Victor, in his first year as a mentor. The novice, who had no idea of what he was doing. I felt for them.

"Do you want to be mentored together, or separately?" Haymitch asks, grabbing one of the crystal glasses, from the table, pouring the continence of the bottle in it.

"Separately," Brooke said right away. She shoots Collis a look, before quickly turning away.

"Okay," Collis agreed. And that was that.

"Let's start now. Collis, tomorrow we'll be getting into the Capitol. Once we arrive, you'll be put in your prep teams care. They're going to do things that you really don't like, but I don't want you to put up a fight. What they're going to do will help you in the long run."

Haymitch gave me the same advice last year. It was the only thing that stopped me from resisting at every turn. Being prepped is never fun, but if Collis wanted to have a chance to win, that's what he'll need to do.

"What else should I do? When I get into the arena, do I make the run for it? Should I-"

I raise my hand to stop him. "One thing at a time kid."

"Kid?" Collis repeated indignantly. "I'm older than you!"

"True. But I am the mentor. So that means you're the kid, and I'm the adult here," I answer back, pulling a cocky smile.

Across the table, Brooke laughed.

"Now, now, Gale. You shouldn't mock your tributes," Effie said, though I could see she was fighting a smile.

"Trust me Collis. One thing at a time. Once the Tribute Parade is over, we'll focus on what to do next," I promise.

Collis nods.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the fourth chapter of Mentor!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

When we get to the Capitol, I leave Collis to his fate. I ask one of the preps about Eutropia, but he only gives me a strange look. Before he can say anything, he's swept away with his team.

Haymitch calls a car, and Atticus promises he is on his way.

"So where are you going?" I ask as we wait in the specialized Victor's Booth.

"To see our oldest sponsor. District 12 only has one loyal sponsor, and I don't intend to ever let anyone else have them." he explains.

"Huh. I was wondering why you're wearing a suit," I comment. He didn't even wear one on my Victory Tour.

"I always wear one once it's time to get sponsors," he tells me.

"So is this how we do it? How we get sponsors?" I ask.

Haymitch shakes his head. "No. Normally you don't start getting sponsors until after the parade. Unless you have loyalists. Every district has a few. The career districts have a lot."

"So how do we get sponsors?"

"There are five places in the city. Officially they're called Game Centers, but we Victor's call them Sponsor Pits. Those five places have been in operation since the very first Hunger Games. They're the only places in the city where it's legal to use mentor's to meet with potential sponsors. It is possible for more private gatherings, but that only happens if a potential sponsor wants to meet you that way. Otherwise, we try and work at the Sponsor Pits. You'll be a real help this year," Haymitch says.

"I will?" I ask. As far as I know, I'm probably going to be a handicap. I don't know anyone. I don't know how the sponsors work, or how to even mentor. This is all completely new to me.

"The newest Victor's are always the most interesting. Sponsors flock to them, even if they are from Twelve," he answers. Before I can get anything else out of him. Atticus phones, telling him he has arrived, and another car is here for me.

When I offer to go to the Sponsor Pits, Haymitch shakes his head. "Kid, we call them pits for a reason. It's a wolf den. They'd eat you alive. You'll go with me. I'll show you the ropes, so we can avoid losing you. Besides, the pits don't actually open until after the parade, so you have time."

Haymitch speeds off with Atticus, and I climb in the other car, instructing the driver to take me to the Tribute Center. He drops me off in front, and I make my way to the front, only to pause at the scene. Three Peacekeepers are surrounding someone, informing them that only official games personnel are allowed inside the center. Fans are not.

Figuring it was just some stupid Capitol fan, I go forward, nodded to a Peacekeeper who stops me. He assures me he knows how I am, but it's a procedure. I press my thumb against the scanner, and my Victor I.D. appears on his screen. With a nod he lets me pass. I'm almost inside when I hear Eutropia's familiar voice: "I used to work here! I'm not a silly fangirl!"

I pause in front of the door, wondering why a stylist isn't being allowed inside. Turning around, I walk over to the group. Once Eutropia sees me, her body sags in relief. "Gale!"

The three Peacekeepers turn to face me. "Mr. Hawthorne. A pleasure to meet you. My daughter is a huge fan," the oldest man says, giving me a tentative smile. I don't return it.

"Why aren't you allowing her inside? She's one of District 12's stylists. My tribute needs her," I say.

The old man shook his head. "I am sorry sir. That is incorrect. She has been terminated from her position working for the games, and has no authority to enter the Tribute Center."

"Terminated? Why?" Sure, she was an empty-minded Capitol woman who cheered while kids were forced to kill each other, but that was probably true for most of the people in this city.

"Above my pay-grade," he answered.

As much as she was that kind of empty-headed Capitol woman, I had a soft spot for her and Effie. They were like children. They didn't understand what the games really were. They didn't understand the suffering of the districts. They weren't malicious, unlike Snow and his government.

I could try and get them to let her in, under my authority as a Victor, but I'm not sure if I even have any authority. I'm famous, but I have no real power.

Suddenly Effie's voice hits me. Back before the Victory Tour, when she was asking about my talent (which I still hadn't decided on) Effie suggested that I get a personal stylist. The game stylists are for the tributes. Victors had to make do on their own. At the time I resisted it, thinking it was just another way for the Capitol to control use.

"She's my personal stylists," I lie through my teeth. "It not official yet, but my escort has been telling me I need one for a while. Since she helped me so much last year, it was a no-brainer."

Two of the Peacekeepers look at each other. The oldest one looks back at her, and steps to the side. "I'd get it official like real soon if I was you. We'll let her inside this time, but if it isn't on record the next time she stops by, we'll have to treat her as a fan."

I nod. "Thank you for understanding. Come on, we have some paperwork to fill out Eutropia."

"Thank you, Gale," she says quietly as we went to the Tribute Center. "Did you really mean it about me becoming your stylist?"

"Yeah. It looks like I'm going to need one. Even Haymitch keeps a guy on his payroll."

From her expression, she looks shocked. I can't blame her; I was too when I found out.

"I don't know how to hire you, and make it official," I finish, hoping she can help me out with that part. Otherwise, I'll have to ask Haymitch when I see him again.

"I can help," she says as if reading my thoughts. "We can go to your room and take care of it now."

"My room?"

"Yeah. The mentors each get their own quarters in the center. As a tribute, you wouldn't have seen it."

"So, how come you're not with the games anymore? You've been working at District 12 for five years, haven't you?" I asked.

Eutropia nods. "I got fired by the new stylist."

When my father worked in the mines, he always talked about seniority. That the older mines who were working there longer knew what they were doing, and people respected that. I guess the same can't be said here.

"Can your stylist partner fire you?" I ask.

"Not officially. I guess I should say he got me fired, instead of doing it himself. After Regulus quit, Jupiter Honen was brought on. He wanted to dress the tributes in nothing but black shorts and a bra for the girl. I disagreed. I worked there longer, so I thought that was it, but he contacted his father, and I got my dismissed the next day."

I didn't think I would ever feel sorry for someone who lived in the Capitol, but I guess the day has come. "I'm sorry," I say.

She shook her head. "Don't be. It's not your fault."

"Come on. Let's go finish that work."

An hour later and Eutropia Wayland is my official stylist, granting her access to spaces reserved for game personnel. She leaves soon after, promising to come back, but she has to tell her family she got a new job really quickly. I'd be paying her a tenth of my wages a year, but she didn't seem to mind. I guess it must have been someone near what she had been paid before.

Once she was gone, I decided that I was going to go speak with Jupiter Honen and make sure my tribute wasn't dressed in his underwear. A short ride to the remake center alter, I find the man in question was gone by the time I got there. One of the staffers assured me that my tribute wasn't dressed in his underwear. Neither was his partner, which was good enough for me.

I go back out to the waiting car, wanting to return to the Training Center, but the driver informs me that it is customary for all mentors (and any visiting Victors can choose to attend as well) to watch the parade live. A special viewing booth has been set up, and I am sure I do not want to attend? Figuring this is something I'm sure Haymitch has forgotten to tell me about, I have him drive me.

An elevator rides up, and I enter a room most people living in the Capitol would die to be in. Over the mute avoxes standing against the walls, everyone in the room are Victors. I recognize all of them. Augustus Braun and Shimmer Croix from One. Nero Bellius and Artemis Caelius from Two. Beetee Latier and Siren Morse from Three. Finnick Odair and Ariel Tifon from Four. Issac Watson and Porter Tripp from Five. Mercedes Oto and Router Bennett from Six. Ash Palmer and Juniper Wheeler from Seven. Rayon Steppe and Cecelia Dresse from Eight. Amelia Rosales and Silas Safar from Nine. Rowan Holstein, and Gabriella Velez from Ten. Chaff Culler and Seeder Pynes from Eleven. Finally, Haymitch, laughing over with Chaff. A few feet away from them, a table is full of food, already being attacked by career mentors.

"Haymitch, something you forget to tell me?" I call, walking towards my mentor.

He looks up at me. "Oh. You're here."

I inhale. "And you're drunk," I said disapprovingly. Brooke is his charge. Her life is in his hands, and he was drunk?

"You bet we are," Chaff said, throwing his arm around Haymitch. He pointed to the table full of colorful drinks. "Welcome to the Hawthorne. Can I get you anything?

"Chaff," Seeder hisses from his other side. "I'm Seeder. It's nice to meet you."

She extends her hand. I shake it. "You too."

From years of watching the games, I know Haymitch and Chaff are good friends. Chaff is light-hearted and funny, a good match for Haymitch. Seeder is nice as well, welcoming me as a fellow Victor, and makes me promise to come to her if I need anything. "Because the state knows Haymitch will be drunk when you really need him."

Rowan and Gabriella come by, asking me what I think of the viewing box, and asking me if I think my tribute has a chance. Which of course doesn't matter, because Rowan is sure his body is going to come out of the arena this year. Finnick Odair pops up behind him, telling him how sorry he is to think that, because his Annie is not only a real fighter but with him as her mentor, she'll have more sponsors than the five most popular tributes after her.

I keep quiet about Collis. He's a fight, but that's about all I think he has going for him.

I'm on my third fish cake (the creamy lime filling is delicious. I wonder if I find the recipe, could the baker make it?) when the parade begins. One, Two and Four are fan favorites as well, but no one else stands out to me. Until District 12 rolls out. The staff at the remake center was right. They're not in their underwear. The only thing they were wearing was a fine black powder, no doubt meant to symbolize coal dust. I decide I'm going to kill Jupiter Honen.

The whole room is laughing now, and Shimmer asks me who Twelve has this year because better my district than hers. Following Haymitch's lead, I grab one of the rainbow-colored drinks and down it.

When we get back to the Training Center, Collis and Brooke are in no mood to talk. I can understand that. They had both just gone on national television naked, and now everyone in Panem knew what they really looked like. I'm not surprised that they refuse to talk during dinner, though I spend the time glaring at Jupiter and Aphrodite for putting making them go naked. For her part, at least Aphrodite has the nerve to look ashamed. Jupiter spends his time glaring at Eutropia, but as she's my personal stylist, he can't force her to leave. Poor Effie is staring at each of us, unsure of how to proceed.

When dinner is finally over, Collis and Brooke go straight to their rooms. Haymitch heads back to his, saying he'll speak to Brooke tomorrow. I wait for all three of the stylists to leave before I make my way to the room Collis is staying in.

"Go away," he mumbles as I knock on the door.

"Okay, if you want me to. But I thought you wanted me to speak to you after the parade," I call. He's silent for a moment before I hear him walking across the room. The door is open, and he peaks out.

"What's the point? The odds aren't in my favor anyway," he says bitterly. I can't blame him. Last year when I was a reaper, I was bitter too. It was unfair, my family left without me, going to the Capitol to die. The world was so unfair, it made me so angry. I'm still angry.

"Come on. Let's go get some ice-cream, and then we can talk," I suggest.

"What's ice-cream?" Collis asks. I grin at him in answer.

I personally call the kitchen, and an avox brings us up two cones of the icy treats. I take him to the rough and eat with him, looking out over the shining Capitol as he tells me about his life. As I expected, his life in the town is a lot different than my life in the Seam. I am surprised to hear that most of the food they eat is stale, expect what they buy from the hunters. His father is good friends with Edric Everdeen, and his father nearly had a panic attack when the mine accident happened. He was overjoyed when he found out Edric wasn't working that day.

Edric Everdeen should have been working that day, but I don't say anything to Collis. The only reason he wasn't was because he was with my father out in the woods. My father promised to buy everything he caught for twice as much as anyone else would offer. Edric has a wife and two daughters, so it was a good thing he was with my father.

"After that, you'll have three days of training, but before we get to that, let's talk about the odds. _Maybe the odds be ever in your favor_," I start, saying the hunger games line in the same accent the people of the Capital spoke with. "That line isn't saying we wish you good luck, leaving it up to chance. You can control whether the odds are in your favor."

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I can see the dumbfounded look on his face. "What do you mean?"

I can imagine what he's thinking. Control the odds? That wasn't possible. Only the game makers could control the tributes odds, and I wasn't a game maker. Was I mocking him?

"Whether you're the Victor, or dead on the first day is entirely up to how you play the game. And how you put the odds in your favor," I answer.

"I can't put the odds in my favor," Collis hisses, glaring at me. "I'm a tribute, not a Gamemaker. They're the ones who can put the odds in my favor."

"You're wrong," I say sharply, leveling a glare at him. "Right now, you have a one in twenty-four chance of winning. Your odds of winning are the same as every other tribute."

"Don't lie to me!" he snaps. "The careers have been training for this their whole lives!"

"Have they? How can you be so sure? They have been trained, but can you say for certain it's been their whole lives?" I ask.

"No, but does that really matter? If they've only been training for ten years?"

"Have you looked at the past theVictors? We come from both genders, races, sexuality, districts, even different ages. In the past, careers have fought and been killed by kids like you. From other districts, where they don't train for the games."

Which was true. Districts 1, 2, and 4 had the largest pools of Victors, but they weren't the only Victors. Me, Haymitch and every other Victor from the outer districts was proof of that.

"The biggest mistake a tribute can make is wasting their time before the games. You have exactly one week in the Capital, and if you want to put the odds in your favor, you do it before you go into the arena," I say.

"But-"

"No buts!" I interjected, cutting him off. "What your main focus on right now will be eating, and training tomorrow. You have no idea what arena the games will take place in, but from past examples, there might not be any food. Possibly for days in the end. You're young, and you'll be fitting for your life. Your body will be burning energy every day the games go on. If you can load up on food, you can survive for over a week before your body starts shutting down from starvation. The Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games lasted for fifteen days, and thirteen of the tributes were dead on the first day. If you can survive the bloodbath, a decent number of your competition will be dead, significantly increasing your odds of survival in the arena.

"The next step is to focus on training. You'll have three days at the gym, and we need to make sure you're spending your time well. You won't be learning enough skills to master a weapon in that short amount of time. Instead, you'll want to focus on skills that will give you the highest odds of survival. Many Victors have won their games because of their survival skills. They didn't hunt the other tributes but focused on not starving to death. Knowing which plants are edible instead of poisons may save your life in the arena. Learn how to purify water. Making sure you know how to start a fire, either for warmth or for cooking is invaluable."

"The careers," Collis says, "If they see smoke-"

"Then they'll hunt for you. But you don't know what the area will look like. What traps the game makers will set. It could be that they won't be able to get to the fire before you're gone. Maybe they won't be able to see the smoke at all. Even if those don't hold true for your situation, without a fire to cook, if the games last too long, you'll die of starvation. Best to know how to start a fire, just in case.

"Some have won by hiding for most of their games. Or escaping, if found. Learning how to hide yourself, learning how to climb, these are almost as important for survival.

"How handy are you with a knife? More than a fair share of Victor's won because they had a knife, and knew how to handle it. You're not going to become an expert swordsmen in three days or learn the best way to throw a spear. But a knife is a multipurpose tool in the arena and one that you will be able to learn the basics of how to wield in three days. It is the most likely weapon to be found in the arena."

He nods. My father taught me how to skin an animal, and how to defend myself with a knife when I was younger. Collis is a merchant and doesn't have that training, but he should be able to learn how to handle one in the time allowed.

"Avoid heavy weapons training. Or weight lifting. You can't master a weapon in just three days. You want to put as much meat on your bones as possible, not build up your muscles, which would only cause your body to burn more energy faster. You have very little time in the grand scheme of the games, don't waste it," I say, my voice harsher than I mean it to be.

"Alright. What should I do when I get into the arena?" He asks, and I can't blame him. As far as I'm concerned, it's the most important part of the games. The actual surviving.

"We don't need to go into that yet. We can cover that later. Our time now should be focused on the pre-games," I began, but the mutinous look in his eyes makes me stop. I sigh. "When you get into the arena, avoid the Cornucopia. In last year's games, over half the tributes died at the Cornucopia. If you don't go for it, your chance of survival could double. I know what you must be thinking, that you need weapons if you want to survive. On the first day, the prices of any gifts are at their lowest. If you do a halfway decent job in your presentation and listen to what I have to tell you, I should have enough money to send you a knife. Having a weapon doesn't matter right off the bat, though. Your priority is survival. Avoid the Cornucopia, and find a source of water. Those are the most important rules for the first day of the games, understand?" I demand, my eyes boring into his. Collis nods again.

He's probably seen plenty of tributes die of thirst in the games, and I hope he has no desire to repeat that mistake. Water was the most important thing he needs to find. If we're lucky, the arena won't be a desert.

"What about alliances?" He asks. I was ten years old when I saw the replay of Haymitch's games on television. I had come home from school early, and both my parents were at work. I don't remember what prompted me to turn on the television, but I did. He had gone in alone and played the games mostly solo.

"At the end, who you do or don't ally within the arena is up to you. I recommend against it though. Banning together might sound like a good idea at the time, but in the end, you'll have to kill them in order to win. They'll be with you, the closest people to you. They'll have the most chances to stab you," I say. I allied with my district partner, Brendan, and Sequoya. The alliance saved my life. But I was under no illusion that my allies wouldn't kill me if it came down to a choice between me or them.

More than that, my allies' deaths haunt me more than any other. I got close to them in the arena, and when they died it was almost unbearable. In the end, it might be better to go in alone just so you don't get to know the others.

"Now, what I'm about to tell you is more important than anything I've said up until now. All of that advice if the audience doesn't like you," I say seriously.

Collis actually snorts. "The audience? Doesn't it matter more what the Gamemakers think?"

"No. From this moment on, you need to understand what will really make or break you winning is the audience. You need to stop thinking about the hunger games as if they're real."

It takes a moment for my statement to really hit him, but when it does, I can see the danger lurking in his eyes. "Not real? Every year twenty-three kids die in the games and you think that's not real?" The stress of the reaping, of what he's facing must finally come out, and his voice raises to a shout.

"Sit down," I order, keeping my voice calm. "You misunderstand me. I'm not saying what you will face in the arena isn't going to be real. It will be very real. I'm saying the games themselves aren't. Think about it this way; are the games really just twenty-four kids thrown into an arena and forced to kill each other? No. The Gamemakers themselves disprove this. If they think more action is needed, they can artificially create drama or conflict. They can bring tributes together or separate them as needed. They can set off traps or mutts. This isn't just twenty-four kids forced to fight each other. This is a game show, meant to provide entertainment for the Capitol. The for the audience.

"If the audience finds you boring, the Gamemakers might just send off a trap. That could or could not kill you. They might force you into a confrontation with the careers. Other than your district, the audience members will be the ones to sponsor you. That money can mean the difference between life or death. Your death."

And that was another way they controlled us. It was at the whims of the Capitol's people who won and who died in the games. They don't see us as human, just part of the story. It was unfair, it was wrong, but above all of that, it was true.

His anger from moments ago has disappeared, and he seems to be thinking about what I said. I let him have a minute before continuing.

"Let's work on your persona now," I say.

"My what?" Collis asks.

"Your persona. Your angel. How you're going to act in public. Are you the underdog? Perhaps. The careers will be there, and you being from a lower district will make sure that is an option. Or maybe aloof. Friendly? From the moment you set foot in the gym, and every moment you're not on the District 12 floor, I want you to stay in character. So let's figure that character out before tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the fifth chapter of Mentor!**

**As you can see, it's not only Gale's father who survived. I wonder how this might affect the future, and if it means any major changes for our Girl on Fire.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

At breakfast, Haymitch and I tell Collis and Brooke to stay together. Act friendly. Appear as if they're allies. It's the same advice he gave to me and Flint the year before. Apparently it's the same advice he's always given to his tributes on years when he has two fighters. So Brooke must have been able to convince him she was a fighter.

I can say for sure that Collis is, but it's good to know Brooke isn't going to lay over and die. At nine-fifty sharp, Effie takes Collis and Brooke down to the gym, leaving me and Haymitch.

While our tributes are down training, Haymitch says he'll be hitting the Sponsor Pit. I was going to go with him, but half-past eight a call came in. Iskender Templesmith, the only child of the legendary announcer, called and asked that I appear at his school. He promised a sizable donation if I go. Haymitch said that Claudius Templesmith himself couldn't sponsor or bet, but his son was free to do so.

My mentor calls a car, and like clockwork, Atticus is waiting for him. Haymitch disappears and I'm left to wait with Eutropia, Effie, Jupiter, and Aphrodite. Twelve-thirty sharp Atticus pulls in, and I climb in the back of the games car. He asks me where to take him.

"Ellington Academy, sir?" The old man asked. In the mirror, I can see his shocked reflection.

"Yes," I answer. "Is that bad?"

"No sir. Quite the opposite. Ellington Academy is one of the two best high schools that children in the Capitol can attend. Persephone Snow, the president's granddaughter, is set to attend next semester."

I guess that would be enough proof that the school was everything Atticus said it was. But it was a little strange that this man, who seemingly had no connection to the president, knew where he was going to send his granddaughter.

"I'm an avid follower of the first family," Atticus said as if reading my mind.

Which didn't sound creepy at all? He seemed to be a friend of Haymitch, so I wasn't going to say anything.

The drive took longer than I thought, and when I looked out the window, I could see the Capitol below us. The car was climbing into the mountains. "The school isn't in the city?" I ask.

"Oh no, sir. Ellington Academy is located in the mountains. It's a boarding school," he says in explanation. In my mind, I'm picturing the school back in District 12, but what I find blows that expectation out of the water. Five wooden buildings towered above the stone wall that surrounded them. Each building was bigger than any school building had a right to be.

As we drove closer, I could see that the buildings were as close to the wall as I first thought they were. The campus was huge.

Atticus stopped us in front of the gate, his window rolled down, and he spoke into a black box. A voice answered back, and the gate opened, allowing us inside.

"Right now the school in Twelve is out for the next few months," I say as we pass through the now open gate. "Do schools in the Capitol not take the summer off?"

Atticus shakes his head. "No, sir. In fact, most do, but Ellington offers summer courses. Those who take them often graduate one or two years earlier than those who do not."

I couldn't imagine going to school during the summer. It was the time my father and I spent most of his days off in the woods. Capitol propaganda wasn't being shoved down by my throat, and I wasn't learning about coal.

Atticus let me out in front of the main office building, promising to return later once I was done. Iskender Templesmith met me at the office, wearing the same white uniform as every other student, down to the black-tie. None of the kids here had the freakish enhancements that I was so used to seeing on the people of the Capitol. Iskender tells me that the school doesn't allow that or any form of a tattoo. It had been around as long as the Capitol itself. It was an old establishment and refused to take students who would not conform to its dress code.

Iskender introduces me to his friends, the sons and daughters of government ministers, games officials and of huge corporations that practically run the Capitol, or so those kids claimed. I was a Victor, and I had met one on one with President Snow. I doubt anyone in the Capitol really had a say other than him.

I spent the entire time with the richest heirs and heiresses the Capitol had to offer. The generation of that will rule the city. Iskender and all his friends were more spoiled than I could imagine. They had everything they ever wanted, got whatever they asked for, and never had to go hungry a day in their life. The school feast that they called lunch could have fed District 12 for a month.

I got more money than my entire year of Victor's salary for Collis and Brooke, so I suppose it was a fair trade. Once Atticus had come, I couldn't get away from them fast enough. Iskender promised if I came back next year, he'd sponsor Twelve again since I was his favorite Victor. The money was worth it, but the last thing I wanted to do right now was to go back.

I get back to the Tribute Center in time for dinner, luckily without the stylists present. Collis and Brooke don't look too happy. When I ask what happened, Brooke stabbed her roast duck with a fork. "Luster, the boy from One, said I looked great in my parade costume. He asked if I wouldn't mind showing him again. In private," she hissed.

"Remus didn't like that very much," Collis said. I frowned.'

"Remus, the boy from Two?" I ask. He nods.

"He's the leader of the career pack. He said... Not to associate with district trash," Collis finishes, looking down at his plate.

"Hey. Don't listen to them. Last year when I was training, Gleam said the same thing about me," I say. "And look where I am."

"Yeah. Remus mentioned you too," Collis says, still not looking up from his plate.

"What did he say?" I ask.

"That his brother Romulus should have won," Collis reluctantly admits. I can remember the skilled and arrogant boy from last year. He died in my final snare, promising me a show for the camera's as he skinned me alive.

"Don't listen to him. The careers go in and try to intimidate everyone else. It happens every year. Don't let them get to you," I tell them both. "And if One asks you to do that again, tell him you'll cut his jewels off."

This gets a smile from Brooke, and the rest of the meal passing in considerably better spirits. The next day after the tributes are center off to the gym, Haymitch calls for Atticus, and we go to the Delirium night club. I can't imagine why it's called a night club since it's open in the morning.

Inside the lights are an icy blue, people are dancing, the music is pumping, and I feel completely out of my element. As soon as Haymitch and I walk in, a crowd gathers around us. Despite how loud the music is, people are pushing and shoving to get to talk to us. Haymitch becomes a different person from the surly mentor that I've come to know. A smile spreads across his lips, and he actually sounds happy. He appears to easily speak with the crowd of people, making jokes at his own expense. Who was this man and what did he do with Haymitch?

Then suddenly the crowd turns on me, asking me how I'm enjoying the Capitol, and I put on my best smile. I follow Haymitch's lead, putting back on the cocky persona I used during the games. "The people here are nice." "There are things here I've never imagined when I just lived in Twelve."

By the time other Victor's arrive, Shimmer and Artemis are the first two, I have three promises of sponsorships. The career mentors do take off some of the crowd, but as the shiny new Victor, I'm all the rage. When asked about what my talent is going to be, I decided then and there that it's knife tricks. More colorful drinks are down, the world starts bleeding together.

By the time I get back to the tribute center, I have boxes of knives being shipped back to Twelve as my new talent, thirteen sponsorship promises, my impeccable clothing is disheveled and torn, and I think I accepted a few marriage prepossess.

I can understand why the Victors have named it Sponsor Pits. Alcohol and other drugs followed easily. Tempting. All the Capitol citizens around you heaped endless praise on you, making you feel like the center of the world, at the same time trying to get things out of you. Why you're trying to get Sponsor money out of them.

Whenever another mentor or Victor comes and steals the Sponsor that you were working so hard to get, it's easy to slip into a rage. Even more easy with the booze and drugs. I vaguely remember a Peacekeeper having to separate me and Nero when he swooped in and stole the Sponsor I had been working on for a while. Things got heated easily, perfumed whispers promising pleasure, and anything else you wanted. In the end, Haymitch had to drag me out, when the thoughts of getting Sponsors was completely gone, and I was just ready to embrace it. It felt so easy to get lost in the pits. I wonder what would happen if I never came out.

Collis and Brooke see my state, but I just shake my head, mention something about a sponsorship meeting gone wrong and head to my room. The shower helps clear my head, and I go down to eat dinner, picking at my food.

On the final day of training, I go back to the pits. I'm more prepared this time, and at the end of the day, I'm not _too _drunk. I feel a little bad, only able to secure a few small pledges this time, but I guess I wasn't as fun the first time. Haymitch says there's a balance to be found between responsible mentor actions, and lost losing it in the pits. I'll have to find that medium. If you aren't approachable, if people don't think you're having fun, then they won't be willing to spend as much. If you get lost in that role, you might not only forget what you were doing there, you could find yourself anywhere in the city days later.

I'm relieved when the final day comes before I remember it's the final day before the games. Tomorrow Collis and Brooke could be dead. While Broke is with Effie, I coach Collis as best as I can, and we settle on him being cheerful. In awe of the Capitol and being here to represent his district. When the tributes change places and Haymitch works with Brooke, I make calls to all my Sponsors, confirming that they would be helping Twelve. I even got a few promising more money if they do well at interviews.

A little before the start of the interviews, I join Haymitch, Effie, and Eutropia in the crowd. Collis performs better than Brooke, who breaks down crying halfway through her interview.

When we get back to the Twelfth floor, Haymitch breaks away and follows Brooke to her room, no doubt to try and comfort her. Collis, though a little quieter than normal, doesn't seem to need much comfort.

Long after Collis and Effie had gone to bed, Haymitch comes out of Brooke's room. I'm watching a scene from my own games, the moment that Brendan's ax caves in the skull of the District 5 boy. As I watch him die, I realize I've never actually learned his name.

"How is she?" I ask when Haymitch appears in the hallway. He shakes his head.

"She begged me to remember her. Made me a promise. She only has a boy she's sweet on back on. No one else will remember her."

"We will," I say because it's the only thing I can. If I had the power to stop the games, I would. I'd take Collis and Brooke back to Twelve, and make sure they both lived a long life.

"Yes. We're the only ones who can," he answers. "I'm going to get a drink."

I should be going to bed. Like Collis and Brooke, I'll have a long day ahead of me as well. But instead, I call Games Headquarters and ask for official pictures of Collis and Brooke. Two of each, to be mailed back to my house in Victor's Village. I only hang up when they promise me the pictures are on the way. I call my house and leave a message about the pictures since no one picks up. I say to leave them in my study, and I hang up.

That night I dream I'm back in my arena. Flint and I are running down the long hallway, and I know what's about to happen. I'm at the part where I run into Brendan and Sequoya, but instead of my allies from Seven, we find Collis and Brooke. The three of us flee through a door, and we're in my house in Victors Village. Far away from the Capitol and it's games.

Eutropia wakes me up in the morning, at the same time that the tributes are being awakened. For a moment I'm preparing to get ready to get on the hovercraft when I remember I'm not a tribute. Shaking my head, I take a short, hot shower, before putting on the causal clothes Eutropia has laid out for me.

I met Haymitch by the elevator and the two of us are escorted out of the Training Center after the tributes depart in the hovercraft. A fleet of cars are waiting for the mentors, and we're all loaded up, each district in its own car. The streets of the Capitol are quite this early in the morning, the few people already up pointing and whispering as we silently pass by. We drive out of the city, and to a building up in the mountains that is Game Headquarters are located. Haymitch has another name for the building; Purgatory.

Men and women, who came in other cars, are also entering the building. "Those are the Gamemakers," Haymitch says when I ask.

"I thought they'd already be here," I say back. When we enter the building, there are two golden flights of stairs. One leading down, and the other up. The Gamemakers are going towards the ones that lead to the floor above us, why my fellow mentors had to the staircase leading down.

At the bottom of the stairs, we come to a stop in a large room. Within the room itself, in a line against the far wall, are more rooms. Twelve to be exact, Haymitch tells me. "Just in case every tribute survives the bloodbath and no one allies."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

Haymitch pints into the room. A table is lined with food, and I can see three roast pigs from a casual glance. Past the table, a giant screen on the wall. "The rooms don't actually open until the bloodbath is over," he explains. "Come on. The opening feast looks great."

Behind the feast, the table is a large bar, full of crystal bottles and red liquids. Of course, that's where Haymitch goes first, and I almost fill up a plate, but I find I'm not hungry. Maybe after, when I know if Collis and Brooke make it through.

Chaff and Seeder soon join us, and as Haymitch starts drinking with his friend, Seeder comes to see me. "How are you? I know the first time here can be a little... Disorientating."

"That's one way to put it," I mumble. "So, how does all this mentoring work?"

"Haymitch will tell you the specifics. It's a tradition that the mentor teaches their Victors about the system," she says.

Behind me, I hear a snort. Artemis, one of Twos Victors, stares at us. "Don't worry, you probably won't be here long enough to learn the system. Neither mentor is allowed to leave until both of their district tributes are dead, but we all know that Twelve doesn't usually make it very far into the games."

Haymitch whips his head around and glares at her. Artemis returns the glare with a sneer and went to stand with the other career mentors. Finnick Odair looks back at us for a moment, shooting me a wink, before speaking to Nero.

"Don't mind them," Rayon Steppe says, clapping me on the shoulder. "That's the careers for you. Rowan, get over here you old dog!"

The two Victors from Ten join us, and the divide becomes pretty clear. The careers and the none careers. I've seen the two factions of Victors on television more times than I can count, and the divide didn't seem to be so big. I imagine it's always there at some level, but that rivalry must come out in full swing for us mentors.

It might be strange just talking about nothing before the games begin, but that's what we do. Those of us who can stomach to eat load up on food and those like Haymitch go for the drinks.

I can't really say how long we talked, but when the giant screen comes to life, it almost causes me to jump. Almost. Finbar, the boy from Four is on the screen. He is going up slowly from the launch pad, and it is from his point of view that we get our first glimpse of the arena.

The tributes are in a valley, surrounded on all sides by mountains. The western mountain face is covered in trees, by the eastern side is barren rock. Further north is a large body of water, held behind a stone dam.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Claudius Templesmith's voice bombs through the speakers. And the arena, no doubt. "Let the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

The countdown begins, and no doubt like the rest of Panem, my face is glued to the screen. The camera is moving around, showing each tribute. Collis has turned on his pad and is staring out towards the wooded mountain face. Brooke is staring at the Cornucopia, and I have a bad feeling. A single tear runs down her cheek.

Five. Why is she still staring at the Cornucopia?

Four. I watch Collis take a deep breath, and lean forward on his pad.

Three. The girl from District 4, Annie, also leans forward. A smirk pulls its way across her lips.

Two. Damn it Brooke! Why are you still looking at the Cornucopia. Just run!

One. The handsome boy from One, Luster, is grinning ear to ear.

The gong sounds. For a moment, I can see Collis shoot off his pad, away from the ensuing bloodbath. Brooke runs straight into the thick of things, and grabs one of the large backpacks at the mouth of the Cornucopia. She turns around, towards the woods, when the girl from Two (who Templesmith says is named Nymeria) slashes her throat open with a sword.

My whole world freezes. I can vaguely hear the cheering of the career mentors. I can feel Seeder put her hand on my shoulder, even though her girl is still alive. But none of that matters. For the last week, I've lived with Brooke in the Training Center. I've eaten with her. Haymitch has done everything he could to help her. And now she's on the ground, slowly dying.

The sword wound kills her before the bloodbath is over. Brooke Hooper, no family, has a sweetheart back in District 12. She had her whole life ahead of her. She could have had a loving husband, maybe even a few kids. All of that potential, her future, gone in a moment.

For the rest of the bloodbath I'm out of it, and when ten cannons sound at the end, Haymitch grabs my shoulder. He steered me towards one of the now open rooms, and jabs his thumb against the scanner. On the door of the is a small black screen, but when Haymitch touches his thumb to the scanner, the screen bursts to life. A white background is displayed, with a black number 12 emblazoned on it.

The door slides open and he pulls me inside, door closed behind him. Before I can say anything, he pulls me into a hug. "Haymitch. She's dead. Brooke is dead!"

It takes me a moment to realize I'm crying. Haymitch doesn't say anything, just lets me cry for a minute, before pulling away.

"Collis is still alive. And that boy needs our help. Your help. If we want to pull him out of the arena," Haymitch says gently, looking me in the eye.

I nod. I know he's right. Of course he is. There is nothing either of use can do for Brooke now. Soon her body will be on the hovercraft if it isn't already. Her body will be prepared for our return home, where she'll be buried. Collis was still breathing, and he had a chance of coming home. "So, how do we do this?" I ask.

For the first time, I take stalk of the room I'm in. On the right and left wall are two doors. Directly in front of me are two setups that remind me of the desks students in Twelve sit at. They're propped up against the wall.

"That door leads to the bathroom. Toilet and a shower are there if you need them," Haymitch says. When he sees my nod, he points to the other door. "That leads to a small bedroom. Two bunk beds are inside. If you need to sleep, you'll do it in there. This set up is the exact same for every room, in case we move."

I don't know why we would move, and he doesn't offer any reasons.

"Those are the terminals. We the tributes are reaped, they're assigned a tribute I.D. Those I.D.s are connected to our Victor I.D.s. Press your thumb against the scanner and you'll have access to Collis's profile. His accents, vital signs, and a special live stream. The tributes are always on camera in the arena, and you'll have access to Collis's stream twenty-four seven. I'll show you how to work on everything."

"What about you? Brooke is dead. Will you have her profile?" I ask. Haymitch shakes his head.

"All her account money has been sent to Collis. I'll have access to his vitals and stream, but only you can grant me access to his account."

He points to the terminals at the end of the room, and I walk towards the mind. The white is connected to the desk. Most of the desk is taken up by a black screen. A scanner is placed at the edge, and I press my thumb against it.

The screen comes to life, split into two seconds. The right second show's Collis, running through trees. His vitals are displayed right past the screen. How fast his heart beats. Blood pressure and dozens of other things.

The left section is split. The top says Tribute Account Information. Below it, displayed in golden letters are the words; _Hunger Games Listening. _Seeing that Collis is alive and well, I tap the listening. A digital store opens up to me. Survival equipment, weapons, medicine, and various other categories are displayed. I touch the weapons, and a list of available weapons appear, followed by the price tag.

"You can close the account information and the listening if you want," Haymitch says. I turn to look up at my mentor. "Here, let me show you how to bring up the arena map."

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the sixth chapter of Mentor!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.**

"Nine tributes died in the bloodbath. Two hours in and the traditional alliance of One, Two and Four has hunted down and eliminated the girl from Ten," Claudius Templesmith commented. On the wall in front of my terminal, the legendary Hunger Games announcer smile. I could see the family resemblance between him and Iskender.

The screen is showing the official broadcast. At this time it's mandatory viewing in Twelve. Of course as a mentor, my job supporting my living tribute means that I don't actually have to watch it.

The face of the deceased tributes appeared on the screen: both from Three, both from Five, the girl from Six, boy from Seven, both from Eight, the girls from Ten and Twelve. Brooke is smiling in her picture, and I wonder what was going through her head when it was taken. Surely it must have come before she was reaped for the games. She hasn't had much to smile about since she was chosen. Now she was dead.

I mute the the screen once the replay of Ten girls death starts, and I focus back on my terminal screen. Collis is resting under the shade of a tree, the sun high in the sky above him. I can see the sweat dripping down his face, and I know it must be hot. He's only a little ways away from a small pond, which should give him water. But he has nothing to purify it with, and short of starting a fire, he might be forced to drink it untreated.

I close the map and bring up the Listing. It's only the first day, so everything is as cheap as it's going to get. I select an all-purpose knife, a bottle of water purification tablets, a water bottle, a big backpack, and a large bag of beef jerky. I told Collis before he went into the arena that he'll want to ration his food, so I hope the boy takes it to heart. I'm about to approve the transaction when the idea of a blanket crosses my mind. The arena might get cold at night, and once it's cold, the price of blankets will skyrocket. If I get one now before he needs it.

But what if it's freezing at night? I'll have spent his precious money for nothing. Damn it.

Biting my lip, I look around the room for Haymitch, finding it empty. He said something about going to get a drink, but that was a while ago? Where the hell could he be?

"Screw it," I mutter, adding a thermal blanket to my purchase and clicking accept. There goes half his money, but I think it's well spent. The parachute is dropped not five minutes later, and soon Collis is grabbing the backpack. I have the perfect view of him opening it. Everything is inside, and he takes out each item, examining it.

"Thanks, Gale," Collis whispers, putting everything carefully back in. He opens the bag of jerky, takes one stick out, before putting back as well. Collis closes his backpack, heaves it over his shoulder, and continues his trek. Luckily he's moving towards the water, so I lean back in my chair.

My eyes look back at the holoscreen on the wall. The first thing I notice is Caesar and Templesmith are gone. The shoot is of the career pack. The girl from Four, Annie, is in the girl from Twos face. I reach out towards my terminal, going to turn up the sound, when Annie whips out her knife. Before I can thick, it's cutting through Nymeria's throat, a look of shock and disbelief on her face.

A cannon booms as the sound goes up. Annie is whipping her bloody dagger off on her pants. "Well? Anyone else got a problem?" She asks, a smirk on her face as she holds up her dagger. Her district partner, Finbar, laughs.

The Ones shrug, while the boy from Two looks down at his dead partner. He looks back up, meeting Annie's eyes. "Not one."

Where was the district loyalty? If he had any feelings for his partner, he hid them well. Lowering the volume again, I look down at Collis. He seems to have found the water, scooping it into his water bottle, and dropping one of the tablets inside.

The door behind me opens, and I expect to find Haymitch coming back. He is, but not alone. Rayon from Eight, and Siren from Three were helping him back. At first I thought he was drunk, but then I catch a glimpse of the bruise under his eye. "What happened?" I ask.

"Ash lost his cool after his boy died," Rayon said, setting Haymitch in the chair beside mine. "Got roaring drunk. Haymitch tried to help him, but Ash was having none of it."

"Haymitch didn't fight back to his credit," Siren said, standing up now that her burden was gone. "Just held him down until the Peacekeepers arrived."

It didn't surprise me that Peacekeepers were swarming the building. "Thanks for getting him back here."

Haymitch snorted. "I could have walked myself."

"Better safe than sorry," Siren laughed. "I'm calling car. Going to Victory Tour and drink my sorrows away."

Rayon laughed. "So now I have to go make sure you get back to the tower too?"

Once the door closed, I turn to look at Haymitch. "What happened?"

"His tributes was a friend of his younger brother. He had... Gone a lot more than he was obligated to in order to get that boy home. The girl from Two killed him in the bloodbath. Took him out as he was running."

Well his brothers friend was dead. And so was his killer. Eleven down. Thirteen more to play.

"I'm going to go get some sleep," Haymitch says, forcing himself to stand up. "Wake me up when you need a rest."

I nod. The rest of the day I spent watching Collis. He made good time for the first day, putting a lot of distance between himself and the career pack. When the sun was setting, the arena started to get cold. I checked the price of blankets again, and they had doubled. By the time the faces of the fallen tributes appeared in the sky, the price had tripled from its starting point. The careers (who had the majority of supplies) and a few other tributes (whose mentors might have thought along the same line as me), most of them were shivering that night.

The boy from Six, Titus, was the only one who got a blanket after the sun went down. He had killed two tributes in the bloodbath, both increasing his odds of victory, and making him more popular with the Capitol audience.

Around eleven, no other tribute was around Collis, so after I called for some food to be brought to my room (apparently the mentors get room service), eat half of it, and wake Haymitch. He nods bleary eyed, and gets out of bed without question. After a quick shower, I take his place and fall into an uneasy sleep.

My dreams are all over the place that night. Sometimes I'm with my family in Twelve, sometimes the tributes from my arena are trying to kill me. Brooke is asking me why I didn't do more to help her, and switches to mocking me, wondering how long until Collis joins her. Then Flint opens the door, asking why she's being so mean to me. They end up fighting, and I wake up screaming, begging them not to kill each other.

It's ten in the morning when I come too. Haymitch is still watching Collis when I come out.

"You look terrible," he says in way of greeting. I snort.

"I've seen you after you hit the booze hard," I snip back. Haymitch only shrugs.

"You should go get some coffee," he says.

"Can't I just order it?" I ask.

"Sure, but you want to see which mentors are left. Knowing who our competition is could help Collis survive," he says. Shrugging, I leave the room, finding a mostly empty. Two other mentors, Rowan and Silas, are speaking in hushed tones by the coffee pot. Over by the bar, Chaff is grabbing a bottle of red liquid. Wine, I think.

Rowan and Silas stop talking when I come close, but smile at me none the less. Silas offers to pour me a cop. I learn that the boys from Nine and Ten are working together.

When I rely this to Haymitch, coffee in hand, he gives me a smug _I told you so _look. He offer him one of the cups, and sit down in my seat, watching Collis. The girl from Seven and boy from Six were close to his location, reflectively, but not close enough to be a threat. Yet. Looking on the main screen, the red haired girl from Seven had an axe, and she seemed to know how to use it. At none I tell Haymitch to go get some sleep, I'll watch Collis for now.

When Finnick Odair came into the room an hour later, I was surprised. When he asked for Haymitch, I was even more surprised.

"What do you want with him?" I ask.

Finnick shrugs. "Just to relay a message."

It seemed strange that a mentor was playing messenger, especially when he had a living tribute, but I shrugged it off. "In the bedroom," I say, earning a quick thanks.

He came out a minute later. "So, that your boy?" He asks, standing behind Haymitch's terminal.

"Yeah. Collis."

"Looks like a good kid. Shame that Annie is the one coming out of the arena," Finnick says. I turn to look at him, and saw something that looked a little too close to pity in his eyes.

"Yeah well, she hasn't won yet," I muttered, turning back to my screen. Collis could still win, and get out of that arena.

"Good luck," Finnick says, and for some reason, I believe he really is wishing it for me. How strange.

Last year when I was in the arena, I often contemplated just how boring the Hunger Games could really get. Sure, when you're fighting for your life, and the lives of your allies, it's not boring. Everything ranging from deathly depressing to barely making it out of the situation alive. But in the arena, I wasn't fighting for my life every day. Sometimes whole days past when I was just trying to navigate through the endless corridors.

Now that I'm sitting in the mentors seat, watching Collis eat his second stick of jerky (leaving him thirteen more), I find myself comparing my life as a mentor to my time in the arena. I'm bored. His life is in my hand, so I'm not about to let him down, but as the hours pass, I find myself more and more bored.

The sun is high in the arena when my eyes close, and for a moment I contempt sleeping. Just to relieve the boredom. I shake the thought away a second later, closing the Listening and pulling up the map. That's when I see it. The boy from Six is a lot closer than I feel comfortable with.

_I have to warn him _I think. It's not like I can send him a message. I already checked with Haymitch and the game bylaws specifically state that it's illegal.

He's only a little bit away from Collis now, and my merchant has no idea. "Shit," I mutter, bringing up the Listing again, and going straight to the search function. We still have a considerable chest of money (at least I think so. Haymitch says the careers have a lot more resources to drawn on) and I just need something to make him move.

On the main broadcast, the scene I'm already watching takes center stage. Titus is lurking behind a thick set of trees, watching as Collis leans down and takes more water in his bottle. Since he found that source of water yesterday, he's shown a remarkable aptitude in finding it. The more I watch, the more I wonder if this might be his undoing.

On the screen, I can see Titus pull out his sword

"Damn it!" I shout, slamming my hands on the terminal. The list flicks up, and suddenly I'm staring at a pair of shoes. A pair of shoes that will cost half of what I have left, but if he gets the message and gets out of there, the price will be worth it.

I've clicked on the idea, and a message popped up, asking me if I'm sure about my purchase when Titus makes his move. With a roar, the boy from Six jumps out of his hiding spot, nearly causing Collis to jump out of his skin. Titus brings his sword down, and in one quick slash, decapitates Collis.

I watch in silence as his head falls to the ground. I can see Titus grab his back, and look back at the first kills he's made. I can see what's going on, but my mind refuses to process it. Like a thick haze has surrounded my head, and I'm trying to find my way out, but it's not working. Collis can't be dead. The boy I swore I would bring back home. I swore I wouldn't let him die in the arena. He couldn't be dead. I watch Titus grab Collis's backpack, and the hovercraft picking up his body. I failed him. The one person whose life was in my hand, and I got him killed.

Robotically I clear away my purchase, which brings up a message asking me if I want to transfer the money back to those who donated it, or leave it in the account. In which case it will be considered donated to the Hunger Games fund. Going to building more arena's and running more games in the future. The thought of giving money to help make more games makes me want to puke. I transfer it all back.

The last thing I remember clearly is needed to leave. I have to leave that place. I got up out of my chair and walking towards the door. For a moment I wonder if I should wake up Haymitch and ask him what happens now? Then I realize I don't care what happens now.

Entering the lobby, I find it deserted. On the large screen. a confrontation between the careers and the Seven, Nine alliance (with both tributes from Eleven somehow roped in) must be taking up most of the mentors attention. I quickly flee the room, running up the stairs and out of Games Headquarters. The fleet of cars are still there, many of the drivers standing by them. Flagging one day, I climb inside the back, and he asks me where I want to go. I say away from here.

I only have flashes of memories concerning what happened afterward. The driver (who I vaguely recognize as not Atticus) drives me back into the Capitol. The hated enemy. A rotten city. He parks in front of the Paradise Casino and Hotel, and I figure why the hell not? Haymitch drowns himself in sorrows, why not me?

I remember ordering a rainbow drink that smelled like summer. I drank it and then I was dancing. More drinks were in my hands. Men and women come up to me, dance close to me, bump into me, touch me in places I've only let two girls touch me before. I don't care.

Sometimes I'm in a bed, sleeping off whatever was in my system. Sometimes I'm at what the people around me call a rave. Sometimes I'm in some house, far away from the bright lights and loud music. A pair of perfumed hands, soft kisses. Then I'm back in a club, or rave or wherever, and more drinks are being pushed in my hands. More pills to swallow, with sweet promises that they'll make me feel better.

Sometimes I catch glimpses of the games. The boy that killed Collis (why does it hurt so much when I think of it? I want to be happy) goes on to kill the girl from Seven. He cuts her head off, then cuts her heart out, and eats it. The people around me gasp, and look sick. I can't imagine why; they take our children here and force them to die for their amusement. And they don't like it when one of them loses their mind?

Before a group of women, dyed every color that you can imagine surround me. They remind me of the rainbow drinks, and they're offering me more pills to feel good. I take them.

The career pack breaks, and the boy from Two tries to kill Annie (how do I know her name) but is cut down by her district partner. The two from One flee, and the Four team seems poised to win the games. And have an epic showdown. That is until Titus cuts off Finbar's head (I wonder again how I know the name of the tribute), causing his beautiful and collected district partner to lose it. As she flees into the woods, Titus starts to cut out Four boys heart, before the feet is cut.

Dream-spice is the hottest relaxant in the Capitol right now, and when I snort it, the world turns upside down. I'm lost in a maze of my own mind, with strange and colorful people popping in and out of existence.

I surface from that wonderful world from time to time. I watch as Titus is caught in an avalanche that kills him.

Later in the day, an earthquake breaks the dam eight days into the games, sweeping up the last eight tributes in rushing water. A day later Annie Cresta from Four is proclaimed the Victor when Luster from One finally drowns.

Then more colorful drinks, and black powder is offered to me, and I'm back in that wonderful world where there is no Hunger Games.

"Haymitch! I found him!' A very familiar voice shouts. _Go away _I think. _I'm trying to sleep._

When I roll over, two powerful hands pull me back. I'm staring into the deep green eyes of Finnick Odair, before the world swims again, and he disappears.

When I finally resurface from the endless maze, I find myself lying on the most comfortable couch I've ever had the pleasure of laying on. My head is throbbing, every light is too bright, and I feel like Romulus made good on his promise in the arena and skinned me alive.

"Oh? Are you finally away?" A voice I don't recognize asks. My eyes protest as I force them open, and turn my head over to look at the speaker. A large man is sitting in a chair, reading a book. He's dressed in a blue and white robe, a silver watch on his wrist. He vaguely looks familiar, but for some reason I can't place him.

"Where am I?" I ask, my voice cracking. As I speak, I slowly look around the room, noticing shelves upon shelves of books. It reminds me of my study back in my house.

"Where are you?" He repeats my words, sounding amused. "Why you are in my manor. Your friend Finnick had you smuggled in her during the dead of night. I've contacted the authorities and told them you came to my house during your drug fueled binge. Don't worry, you're safe here. I have the right kind of pull with the government."

Drug fueled binge? Finnick smuggled me here? Pull with the government? The words are swirling around in my head, trying to mean something, but I don't understand. So instead of trying to understand, I ask: "Who are you?"

At this question he smiles. "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee. We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Hawthorne."

_Part One: Fin_

**Author's Note:**

**Hello! I hope you enjoyed the seventh chapter of Mentor!**

**Before anyone wonders why Titus didn't just eat Collis, that kill was before he went completely savage and started eating hearts.**

**This is the final chapter of part one. This will be the shortest part of the story, but the next part will be longer. It won't be released for awhile yet, but it will be longer than part one! Sorry for the shortness, but I hope you have enjoyed the ride so far! So for now, this is Syraxes, signing off!**


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